Ponderosa Lysistrata
by Adamantwrites
Summary: Follows "The Surrender of Sibella." Loosely based on the play by Aeschylus - with apologies. Adam's wife decides to start a suffragette movement among the women of Virginia City using the best weapon they have at their disposal - sex. It falls into the new, modern category of "Dramady' - drama with a touch of comedy on occasion.
1. Chapter 1

**All recognizable characters and plots are the property of their respective owners. Original plots and characters are the property of the authors. No copyright infringement is intended.**

 **I had requests for a sequel to "The Surrender of Sibella" and although this story may not be what the readers had in mind, it is a sequel but it has a different tone and 3rd person POV. If the reception is good, I'll write more - gladly. I hope you enjoy it.**

 **Ponderosa Lysistrata**

 _Chorus of Old Men: "How true the saying: 'Tis impossible to live with the baggages, impossible to live without 'em."_  
― **Aristophanes** , **Lysistrata**

 **I**

Sibella looked down at her child as he peacefully slept in the basket. She wondered if that was how Adam had looked as an infant, if he had had the face of a little angel, a pink rosebud mouth and rounded cheeks. It was so hard to imagine it now as Adam always had a greyish sheen to his cheeks even after freshly shaving. And then she smiled again before plying her needle to her section of the quilt; thinking about her husband always sent a slight thrill through her blood and warmed her. But oftentimes, as Sibella held her son and looked into his face, she wondered if her darling son would grow up to be a hairy, randy man who wanted nothing more than to lay with his wife like his father did. Probably, but at the moment, she didn't want to consider it. That small, darling boys would grow up to be lusty men was just one of life's inevitable injustices. Sibella sighed.

"So," Mrs. Hardy, a heavy-set woman who loved her pies and cakes, said to the women sitting about the two pushed-together tables over which the large quilt hung, "I said to Abner, what if the men can't find anyone to run for mayor? He said then that the city council – all men, of course - would make the decisions. I would have said more but Abner said it was stuff and nonsense for me to even fill my head with such things and to get about serving dessert. I wanted to dump that slice of rhubarb pie right into his lap!" Mrs. Hardy stabbed the needle into the fabric for emphasis.

Sibella half-smiled. "He might have taken that as meaning that you wanted to eat it up out of his lap and take a taste of him as well."

"Sibella! The things you say!" Patty Broward said, but then broke into giggles and some of the other young wives did as well. They found Sibella's company quite liberating.

"That would be the day I'd take that thing in my mouth – unless of course, he squirted vanilla cream!" The women laughed, Mrs. Hardy laughing the loudest at her joke. Only Mrs. Rowley remained staid.

"You know," Sibella said once the laughter died, "before I was married, I wanted to work for woman's suffrage – go to New York or Philadelphia - even Baltimore to help. But why can't we start our own version of women's suffrage here and demand a vote in local elections – perhaps even run for offices ourselves? If the men can't find someone to run for mayor, one of us could run. Or at least help decide who should run."

"Now, Sibella," Mrs. Maybeth Rowley said, "I can understand your saucy talk - although Agnes doesn't need much encouragement to follow suit, but, well, you're young and have Adam Cartwright as your…"

Sibella raised one eyebrow; after all, what did having Adam as her husband have to do with it? Or was Maybeth referring to the gossip that Sibella learned had run rampant through Virginia City after she had shown up on the Ponderosa, a new bride. It had been passed on from a few Ponderosa ranch hands who had one too many beers of a Friday night, to some of the local ranchers and merchants and then to their wives, that Adam Cartwright would lock himself and his new bride in their bedroom for hours at a time and revel in all sorts of perverse behaviors. It was rumored that there might even be a fling with sodomy on occasion. And at night, the ranch hands claimed, sleep was hard to come by due to all the moaning and creaking of the bed floating on the night air from the newlyweds' open bedroom window.

And once, as Mr. Hardy told his wife, he had shown up at the small house into which Adam had moved his wife; he was delivering an order of nails and hoped to be invited to say for the mid-day meal. Adam's horse was tied up in the yard and his black Stetson, hanging on a peg inside, his gun belt over the back of a chair. But Adam himself was nowhere around. Their housekeeper, Nellie George – a flighty woman by nature - blushed and stammered, not knowing what to say, her plump hands fluttering about like maddened butterflies. But the thudding of a headboard against a wall and a woman's cries and moans was all Mr. Hardy needed to hear. So, word got about that Adam Cartwright came home to lunch everyday but it wasn't to eat dinner! It was to have his fill of his wife or, the men had said, nudging each other, to fill her!

It had taken a few months before Sibella was accepted by the other wives of Virginia City and it hadn't helped that she was so lovely – beautiful, actually, and their husbands acted like fools around her, doffing their hats and smiling like a "witless child," Agnes Hardy had reported early on to the quilting group. "Why I swear, Clovis stood there as hard as when we were first married; he could have hung his hat on it! When that Sibella Cartwright is around, he thinks he's a young man again! Let me tell you, I dragged him home right then and there, lifted my skirts and climbed on top of him and if he needed to think about putting it in her to stay hard for me, I didn't much care. I just took advantage of the situation. For that, I have to thank her. Best ride I've had in years!"

Eventually, Sibella Cartwright had been invited to join the community quilting bee that met every second and fourth Wednesday evening at the large community hall at the edge of town. But many of the women still occasionally glanced at Sibella wondering in what exotic sexual practices she and Adam might indulge; after all, Adam Cartwright had even been to France and everyone knew what the French were like!

"I don't see what my husband has to do with anything, Mrs. Rowley. I just think that we women need to have more say in what goes on in Virginia City. Why, those of us with children, well, our children will go or do go to school here; they will have to live in this town and if we're good enough to raise them, well, why aren't we good enough to decide what happens in their environs and vote for the people who make the laws and ordinances that affect them?"

"It's just not done," Mrs. Rowley said. "that's not the way of things."

"Did you know," Sibella said, her cheeks taking on more color with her enthusiasm. "that Wyoming territory already allows women to vote – and in Missouri, widows with children are allowed to vote on school board elections." The communal intake of breath could be heard.

"Really?" a pregnant, young Patty Broward said, her eyes as big as her belly.

"Utah as well," Sibella added. "I think that Nevada or at least Virginia City should allow us women to vote." Sibella stayed her needle and looked down at her sleeping son. With a little tug at her heart, she felt a bit as if she was betraying him and his future as the dominant sex.

"Sibella," Abby Kirkland asked, "are you sure about all this? I mean, how do you know?"

"I know because I read all the newspapers my husband subscribes to; we have some subscriptions from as far as New York. My husband reads them for stock information and silver prices, trends in construction and some such other business, but I keep track of the suffrage and temperance movements and the battles they've won – and lost."

"Now, temperance," Mrs. Millicent Raymond said, angrily stabbing the fabric she held, "that I could get behind. I have to save pennies and such but Ward, why he thinks nothing of supplying himself with two whiskey bottles every Friday. You know, Maybeth, you asked me last Sunday where my husband was –why I was there at church alone - remember?" Maybeth Rowley, a woman in her fifties and the leader of the quilting group, nodded. "Well, I told you then he was ill and he was. He drank too much the night before and was too hungover to attend – but whenever he's soused, he actually tries to climb on top of me as if he could get that thing hard enough being so drunk. Sinful, sinful!"

The women clucked their tongues and tsk-tsked.

"Men are such beasts," Mrs. Hardy said, shaking her head. "Only thinking of their own appetites."

"As far as appetites go," Mrs. Rowley said pointedly toward Agnes Hardy's massive frame, "You have a few yourself." And Agnes Hardy, once she realized the joke, laughed just as loudly as the others.

Sibella smiled to herself; she rather enjoyed her "beast" and his appetites but then she considered, despite Adam's forward views on many things including the rights of women, he still liked to keep Sibella on her back with her legs spread and if she was too haughty on occasion, he did take her over his knee. But, Sibella considered, she did enjoy a spanking on occasion and the heat it added to her enjoyment of their couplings. But sex was one thing, Sibella considered - politics and women's rights were another.

"What if we could manage to convince our husbands to agree to letting us vote in the local elections?" Sibella asked.

"Oh, that would never happen," Widow Jones said, a plump, pretty woman with gray about the temples.

The other women giggled and smiled and looked at one another.

"Is that because you're afraid that Roy Coffee would be voted out of office?" Clara Driscoll asked.

"Perhaps he would go elsewhere then," Millicent Raymond said, suppressing a smile, "and then you'd have to find another man to warm your bed every Friday night."

The women laughed and Widow Edwina Jones flushed a deep red.

"I never…Roy Coffee is a very nice man and he's alone and I'm alone, so I just have him over for dinner Fridays."

"Yes," Millicent Raymond said, still stitching, "and he has you for dessert and doesn't leave until Saturday morning—after breakfast, I'm sure!"

"Why, Millie! How can you say…." Edwina Jones found herself unable to finish the sentence.

But Sibella interrupted. "I think we can get our husbands and all the men - including Sheriff Coffee – to agree to let us vote."

"Now, Sibella, we all know because we've seen it, that you have Adam Cartwright wrapped around your little finger and can convince him to see things your way. Why you lead him around by the nose like a prize stud bull."

"It's not Adam's nose she had ahold of," Alison Osmond said, smiling. "She has a tight grip a little lower down!"

The women laughed and Sibella had to smile at the image of her with a firm hand on Adam's prick, leading him around.

"Okay, Sibella. Just how to we do this thing?" Abby Kirkland asked, her face serious.

"I have an idea and - I tell you what. When we next meet, I'll reveal it all."

"Why not now?" Patty Broward asked. "I'd like to tell Jack this very evening and see what he has to say about it and then tell him what's what."

"I have some other women to invite to our next meeting – let's meet in two days, Friday – I also want to give all of you time to consider what we women, in solidarity, can accomplish. I still have to work out the details of the plan - exactly. But think of it this way ladies: We can be women warriors – and be unbeatable."

"But how?" Patty Broward asked. "We don't have any weapons."

"Oh, yes we do," Sibella said, a sly look in her eyes. "It's right between our legs."

"On, my goodness," Widow Jones said, one small hand flying to her mouth.

"Of course!" Patty Broward said. "Do you think it would work, Sibella?"

"It may – if we stick together and…well, like I said, there are some other women in town I want to talk to and then I'll know if we have a chance."

Excitement filled the air at the idea of being able to cast a ballot for the first time, to be on equal footing with their husbands for once. Chatter broke out and Sibella looked around at the animated faces. Perhaps the hope of voting could be accomplished. Perhaps she could fight for suffrage right here in Virginia City. And wouldn't Adam be surprised. A smile embraced Sibella's lips. Yes, Adam would be most surprised.

Mrs. Hardy placed her needle firmly in the quilt and stood up. "Shall we have refreshments now, ladies? If we're going to beard the lions in their dens – or in the bedrooms, we'll need to be well-fed."

"Yes, ladies," Sibella said, rising as well. "And tonight, treat your husbands well. Lay with them and whet their appetites for even more to come later – supposedly. Be the tigress you can be but sheath your claws until the time is right. And then we'll snatch victory."

"With our 'snatches'," Alison Osmond said, laughing. And the others joined in as they moved to the table holding the cookies and sandwiches, but Sibella's mind was roiling with plans. Poor Adam, she thought – poor, poor Adam; a soon-to-be casualty of "war".


	2. Chapter 2

**Just a little warning that this chapter is a bit graphic with adult content. It's part of the rising action (no pun intended) of the plot.**

 **II**

As Adam drove them home from town, Sibella considered her strategy for later that evening as she had to make Adam long for the coming Friday night with that Wednesday night still fresh in his mind. Of course, it was just a ploy – but Adam may not take it well. Well, she'd cross that bridge when she came to it. Sibella frowned, glancing over at her husband. How long could she go without laying with Adam, without feeling his arms about her, his hungry mouth on hers and then the insistent hardness between her legs? Sibella shifted uncomfortably on the buggy seat, adjusting her child in her arms. Soldiers in war had to make sacrifices for their causes and since she was a soldier - of sorts - in the war for the rights of women well, Sibella considered, she could be without her husband for a few nights. Couldn't she? Sibella closed her eyes and remembered last night and the delight of having Adam as her lover, how he easily, as broad-shouldered as he was, moved her about on the bed. A heavy sigh escaped her.

"Something wrong, Sibella?" Adam asked.

"No, dear. Nothing."

She considered that she would have to raise the subject of Friday's meeting while raising him; she smiled to herself at the pun. There would be so much to do tomorrow but it was necessary to ensure success; she needed to lay the groundwork tonight. People and things had to be organized. And then her infant son started fussing and distracted her from her plotting. Sibella was in the process of weaning the child but not without disagreement from Adam

 _"_ _But, Adam, women don't nurse their children as long as they used to. I can't go about my business with a child clamped on one teat!"_

 _"_ _What business? Your business is being his mother and my wife. And for God's sake, Sibella, he's only 7 months old! Don't you think he's a little too young?"_

 _"_ _For what? He can take a bottle and I'll slowly wean him off the breast; it'll take about two months or so."_

 _"_ _I think it's too soon. I just don't like it."_

 _"_ _Oh, really, Adam. If it were up to you, he'd come home from school for lunch and say, 'Mother, I'm hungry. Pop out a tit for me, please. I'd like to suck."_

 _"_ _Not funny, Sibella."_

 _But Sibella had won the argument after she told her husband that it was her body and she had the right to wean their son if she chose and it wouldn't harm the child in the least. And Adam had gone dark and sullen – until the morning. "So you rise every morning with the sun," Sibella had said, laughing and stretching in bed while Adam slid his hands over her while using a knee to part her thighs. He always came around to her way of thinking._

Sibella held her son closer as the buggy moved along with its rocking motion, and opened the front of her dress, untying the blue ribbon on her chemise so it fell open as well, and lifted out one breast; the bottle she had brought along had been drunk by her growing son early in the quilting session.

"Was he good?" Adam asked.

"Yes. He slept most of the time, took a bottle and then cooed a bit as the women fussed over him; he's such a good-natured baby."

"Just like his father."

"Humph," Sibella said. She noticed that Adam kept glancing at their child as he nursed, sucking to pull milk from the breast that was running dry after two months of gradual weaning. She reached underneath her son and unbuttoned another button, letting the other breast be partially exposed as well. Knowing her husband as she did, Sibella was sure his pulse was stepping up and he was beginning to strain the crotch of his dungarees. And just as she thought, he couldn't resist, but leaned over and kissed the top of one exposed breast.

"You'll have to wait until we get home to take suck," Sibella said with a small smile.

"I don't know that I'm able to with you sitting there bare to the world like that."

Sibella coyly angled her head. "I'll make it worth your wait, husband. I promise."

Adam snapped the reins with a "gee-up"; he wanted to get home as soon as he could as he was aching for his wife. Since giving brth, Sibella was more rounded now, more lush, more enticing to him and he adored her more than he thought possible. And tonight he wanted to fuck her.

~ 0 ~

Sibella ran her tongue around Adam's navel. Adam made a small sound and clenched his muscles, his hands in fists on the sheet. He should never have agreed to lie still for her, he thought. Never. He felt an ache in his groin, the pain of unspent seed and feared her would shoot out like some fountain if she didn't take him in hand soon, so to speak.

"Sibella, please…"

She had tormented him, slowly undressing as he had watched, touching herself while not allowing him to touch her and then the exquisite torture of her hands and lips and tongue moving over him, teasing him with flickering touches and kisses right on the head of his manhood that caused him to arch his back and clench his teeth. And now she continued the slow torment, taking him in her hot mouth, sliding her lips over him as she gripped him tightly. He groaned and was just about to release when she stopped. Adam's eyes flew open.

"What's wrong? Why'd you stop?" He raised his head and his upper body, leaning on his forearms while looking at Sibella who kneeled between his legs.

"I forgot," Sibella said. "The quilting group is meeting this Friday; we're comparing our old quilts and patterns."

"What…you stopped to tell me that?" Adam was exasperated.

"Well, I couldn't use my mouth for both things. Now could I?"

Adam sat up, suspicious. "What's going on, Sibella?"

"With what?" Sibella looked at her husband as innocently as she could, and noticed he was having trouble looking at her face and kept dropping his eyes to her still-swollen breasts. Even though she was nursing less and less, they still hadn't gone down to their former size and Adam was enjoying them thoroughly.

"I know you, Sibella." He shook a forefinger at her. "You're up to something."

"Now why do you say that?" Sibella leaned down again and reached out and took Adam's prick in her hands and lightly tongued the exposed head.

"I know you're you're up to something because you asked me…Sibella, first you get me going and then you stop and then…oh, shit, Sibella." He fell back onto the mattress, his arousal almost unbearable. Adam knew his wife was up to something - something he wouldn't like. First, as they had been riding home, Sibella had asked which road was to the Hightower's ranch. When he asked why, she had given some offhand reason about asking Bessie Sue to dinner one day. Then Sibella had mentioned having to go to town with Mrs. George to choose fabrics for new kitchen curtains and would he watch the baby? But Adam remembered, at the time of her request, Sibella's hand had been on the inside of his right thigh and she was running one fingernail over and under his balls, her breasts still partially exposed and swaying in rhythm with the buggy's movement. _A cobra hypnotized by the snake-charmer_ ' _s undulating flute,_ Adam thought. _I'm nothing more than that._ But Adam had readily agreed to watch their son the next day. And now Sibella was telling him about the quilting bee meeting on a Friday, something that had never before happened. Sibella was up to no good but at the moment, Adam didn't care because she was now sitting over him, her legs against the outside of his hips while she gripped him and guided him in. And she slowly lowered herself to take him inside her completely. And in the midst of his orgasmic pleasure, Adam knew he was a doomed man at the mercy of his wife's cunt.

TBV


	3. Chapter 3

**III**

"I promised Sibella I'd watch him but…." Adam shifted his struggling, fussing son in his arms. The child wanted down. At 9 months, he was always in action, wanting to crawl around and was already trying to pull himself up using the furniture; only when he was asleep was the child still. He was into everything, the ashes in the fireplace, the wood box, the bottom drawers of furniture, Sibella's sewing box, and it made Adam frantic keeping up with the child's curiosity.

"I need to head out to the mill and it's too dangerous for a baby." The child struggled more and made sounds of protest until Adam put him down on the Indian rug. The child sat for a moment and then took to his hands and knees, scuttling off to the kitchen. Adam dropped the bag Sibella had packed for the day.

"Hop Sing!" Ben warned. "Noah's heading for the kitchen!"

Noah – Adam still wasn't used to it:

 _"_ _I'd like to name him after my grandfather," Adam said, pushing aside the blanket to look again at his beautiful son sleeping in Sibella's arms. The child was perfect in every way and each time Adam looked at his son, he fell more in love with both the child and his mother._

 _"_ _What was his name?"_

 _"_ _Abel."_

 _Sibella smirked. "Please, Adam. Abel? You can't be serious."_

 _"_ _What do you mean?" Adam was affronted._

 _"_ _Adam? Abel? People would ask if your second son will be named Cain. No, not Abel. We could name him after my grandfather, though."_

 _"_ _What's that?"_

 _"_ _Aloysius."_

 _"_ _No." Adam stood up and looked down on Sibella, propped up in the bed. "Babies aren't named Aloysius."_

 _"_ _Well, they must be if they become men named Aloysius."_

 _"_ _I won't have my son named Aloysius and that's that. How about Benjamin after my father?"_

 _"_ _Why not Francis after my father?" The child began to fuss, gave a few half-hearted cries and Sibella opened her gown and placed her child at her breast, helping him secure the nipple._

 _"_ _This is not going to work. I'm the child's father and I'll choose the name."_

 _"_ _I gave birth to him so I should name him and I was thinking of my Uncle Elmer, my mother's brother. Or perhaps my Uncle Clyde. What do you think of Elmer Clyde Cartwright?" With the side of one finger, Sibella stroked her child's round cheek._

 _"_ _Why not Hoss Joseph Cartwright?" Adam glowered but as he watched his wife and child, his anger dissolved. "All right, Sibella – I can see I'm not going to win this. But no 'Elmer Clyde' – or 'Hoss Joseph". Let's arrive at a compromise."_

 _The compromise was Noah Stoddard Cartwright and although Adam wasn't completely happy, Sibella had made the concession for "Stoddard" so he had agreed on "Noah"._

"Where did you say Sibella went?"

"To town with Mrs. George. She claims they won't have time for Noah – supposedly buying fabric for curtains and then going to the dressmakers. But she's going to pick him up before they head home."

Joe and Hoss had come downstairs and heard the last few exchanges.

"Sure you wanta leave Noah with Pa?" Hoss asked, buckling on his gun belt as he stepped off the last stair.

"Yeah," Joe added. "Pa's not that great with babies. Think about how many times he must have dropped Hoss on his head!"

"Oh, you're funny, Shortshanks." Hoss said, slapping Joe on his back, almost knocking him over. "Let's get out and take care of them calves." The two headed out for the day to join the ranch hands who were already out separating the young calves from their mothers. The unpleasant work of turning potential bulls to steer was left to Hoss and Joe.

"Adam," Ben said, shoving his hands in his pockets, "you said, 'supposedly' and 'claims'. Don't you believe that's what Sibella's doing today."

"I don't know what to think, Pa." Adam wagged his finger at his father for emphasis. "She's up to something. That I know, What I don't know is what it is."

"Humph," Ben said. He gazed at the floor, thinking. Ben loved his daughter-in-law but he also sensed that she was capable of emasculating not only Adam, but any man. All beautiful women were potentially man-eaters and could slice the balls off a man as slickly as a practiced cowhand could castrate a calf.

"So, you'll watch Noah then?" Adam asked.

"Of course, I will," Ben said. "Bottles and diapers in that bag?"

"Yeah. Everything he might need. And thanks, Pa." Adam headed for the door. "Oh, and, Pa? Don't drop him on his head."

Ben just shook his head while Adam grinned.

~ 0 ~

"Good morning, Mr. Hightower," Sibella said, smiling. Mrs. George sat next to her on the buggy seat, her crossed arms resting on her large bosom.

"Well, good mornin', Mrs. Cartwright." Lucas Hightower pulled off his hat and grinned widely. Such a pretty woman and as beautiful as a white-faced heifer. That Adam Cartwright was a lucky man. Now, if he could just set a fire under Hoss…

"Is Bessie Sue about?" Sibella glanced around.

"Why, yes, ma'am. She's in the shed gatherin' what she needs to castrate the calves…sorry, ma'am." Lucas Hightower suddenly realized that the topic wasn't for polite company but having a daughter like Bessie Sue was the same as having a son. The two freely discussed the everyday matters of cattle ranching and breeding, not only with each other but with the three ranch hands working for them on their small ranch.

Although Mrs. George politely looked away as if she hadn't even heard the remark, Sibella just smiled. "That's quite all right, Mr. Hightower – it is that time of year." He smiled and politely agreed. "Would you help me down, please?" Sibella asked, putting out a gloved hand.

Lucas Hightower slapped his hat back on his head and took her small, gloved hand, helping Sibella to the ground.

"Now you watch your step. The ground's a bit slick with rain.

"Thank you for the warning." Sibella turned to the buggy. "I'll be back shortly, Mrs. George." Then Sibella turned to Lucas Hightower. "She's in that shed?" Sibella pointed.

"Yes, ma'am. "

Sibella picked up her skirts and carefully stepped between the cattle and horse droppings in the muddy yard and met Bessie Sue just as she was leaving the shed.

"Mornin', Mrs. Cartwright. You headin' to see me?"

"Yes, Bessie Sue, and please call me Sibella. May I speak with you for a moment? Privately?"

"Course, Miss Sibella. Does this have anything to do with Hoss? He's not sendin' you to break off with me, is he? If he has, I'll break him!" Bessie Sue was a beautiful woman, lovely blonde hair and blue eyes. But she was six feet tall and strong as any man. Nevertheless. Hoss sniffed after her as she was curvy and long-legged; Hoss was also one of the few eligible bachelors whose size was greater than hers.

"Oh, no, no, no. But it does have something to do with Hoss, actually, with all the men in Virginia City and perhaps all of Storey County." The two women stepped back into the shed. "Bessie Sue, would you say you do a man's work?"

"Yeah, actually, the work of two or three men. Why?"

"How'd you like to be able to vote in local elections the way the men do? Vote for mayor, school board member, sheriff? I mean you already do all the work that men do, why shouldn't you also be able to vote?" Sibella watched Bessie Sue's face light up.

"I sure would! I think I could do a better job of choosing a mayor than that wall-eyed sonovabitch we have now. Oh, excuse my language."

"That's quite all right, Bessie Sue, if you'll excuse mine - Bessie Sue, if denying Hoss your… 'womanly favors'…would convince him to agree to allow us women voting rights, would you?"

"You mean, say no, the next time he wants my – how'd you put that - 'favors' - which I'm guessin' means my snatch?"

Sibella smiled indulgently. "Yes. That's exactly what I mean. How long do you think Hoss would hold out?"

"Hoss?" Bessie Sue laughed. "About one minute – if even that long. Hell, when he's hard, he's like a bull, snortin' and…"

Sibella put up her hand. "It's all right, Bessie Sue. I get the picture. Now, here's what you do. A group of us women are going to meet at the community center tomorrow evening and stay as long as it takes. When our menfolk realize they need us, that life is terrible without us, well, they'll give in to our demands. So if you want to join us – and I hope you do - pack a quilt or bedroll, a pillow if you want, enough food to last a few days, and meet all of us women at the community center Friday evening at 6:30. All right?" Sibella asked.

"Well, I gotta make my Pa and the ranch hands dinner…"

"Bessie Sue, how long would your father and the hands hold-out without your cooking?"

~ 0 ~

"Here, Mrs. George." Sibella opened her reticule and handed some folded bills to Nellie George. Sibella had parked the buggy in front of Mrs. Curry's dress shop.

"Why, Mrs. Cartwright, that's far more money than the cost of fabric for the new curtains.?"

"Ii is. I think you need a fetching new bonnet – something with flowers and ribbons. Maybe a bird. I read in Miss Godey's that birds are all the fashion. After you buy a new hat, you can go to the general store and choose the fabric for kitchen curtains. And, perhaps buy some new eau de cologne? Put some behind your ears and let Mr. Buckthorn get a whiff. Ask him what he thinks."

Nellie George blushed. "Why, Missus! What a thing to say!"

"Now, Nellie," Sibella said, placing a hand on the housekeeper's arm. "We all know you and he have been keeping very close company the past few months and being a widower, well, he's used to being with a woman so no one would blame you if the two of you engaged in a bit of, well…"

"Why, Missus, it's been a long time since my husband died and Mr. Blackthorn and I, well, we…"

"Nellie, you're no different than any other woman. You well know that I take great enjoyment from my husband and that all women yearn to have a lusty man on occasion – or every night; we're human too and many of us are as lusty as any man. I think, Nellie, you appear much more reserved than you really are, at least one would think so from the way Mr. Blackthorn practically leers at you during services. I've seen him pat your behind when he thinks no one is looking."

"Mrs. Cartwright!" Nellie clamped one hand to her mouth.

"Now go to the milliner's and then to Blackthorn's. Why here…." Sibella took out more bills and pressed them into Nellie's hand. "Treat yourself to some butter creams at the confectioners. It'll give Mr. Blackthorn more to pat."

And with a wicked smile, Sibella left Mrs. George standing on the sidewalk. As she strode toward the far end of town, Sibella drew upon her courage. Along the way, her heels clicking on the board sidewalks, men doffed their hats and she exchanged curt pleasantries but her mind was churning, her heart thudding. She would need to talk with Mrs. Hardy, she reminded herself, before she left town and trust she would spread the word about bringing sleeping quilts and food to Friday's meeting. But now she had another group of women to speak with on the matter.

Finally, at the very edge of town, Sibella paused outside the picket gate in front of Opal's Sporting House. The yard was nothing but weeds, the walkway, uneven flat stones. As Sibella walked toward the house, she wondered how many drunk cowboys caught the toe of a boot, tripped and fell face first and knocked themselves out, only to be rolled by the bouncer; she believed that was the term. While still living in the Ponderosa ranch house with all four Cartwright men, Sibella had inadvertently learned many useful things.

She stood outside the front door; it had a small window in it. Sibella supposed it was there so the inhabitants could see who wanted entry. The house was silent but then she thought, that would make sense as whores slept during the day. Her courage was failing quickly. But it had to be done, she had to try. After all, what good would it do for women to deny their husbands or lovers if the men could just turn to whores for relief? And Sibella wondered if Adam would turn to one. Did he have a favorite whore from years ago? Would he ride over to Carson City and look up his old kept mistress?

A chill ran down Sibella's spine. Perhaps the right to vote wasn't worth taking a chance on losing her husband. How her heart would break if Adam took another woman. Sibella clutched her throat and took a few deep breaths. The thought had to be banished. Adam wouldn't betray her – she was sure of it. He adored her, or so he said. But if she denied him her sex…? Perhaps he would.

Sibella rapped with the brass doorknocker. She waited. Nothing. Then she knocked again - longer. Finally the door opened and a huge man stood staring down at her.

"Yeah? What you want?" He glanced at her, taking in the beautiful woman in the straw hat with yellow roses and a green ribbon, wearing a high-necked blue dress and yellow leather gloves. She didn't look like a whore but then a man never knew until he had her on her back and she showed her talents.

"I'd like to speak with Miss Opal, please." Sibella's mouth was dry from nervousness and she barely managed the words.

"You here for a job?" The man considered Miss Opal could ask fifteen, maybe twenty dollars a throw for this one. Some men liked the school teacher type – all prim and proper and especially if she smacked them with a ruler. He'd known a whore like that in Sonora. Men came for miles to have their asses smacked with a ruler. The only thing he had allowed her to do was measure his length and then consider herself lucky.

"I most certainly am not. As I said, I'd like to see Miss Opal. I have business to discuss."

"Well, what the hell kind of business do you think she runs?" the man said, grinning. Maybe he'd pay to have this one, he considered; she had spirit and he'd like to be the one to tame her.

"Who is it, Thad?" A woman's voice came from inside the dark house. "Is it that pesky, goddamn deputy again? Someone else complain about noise?"

"No, it's…" The man stopped as a blowsy woman wrapped in a weary, silk robe stood at the doorway beside the man.

"What you want, honey? A job?" Already Miss Opal was appraising Sibella, her mind calculating how much money she could get out of this one in an evening.

"No, I don't want a job. I'm Mrs. Adam Cartwright and I'd like to speak to you about women's suffrage."

"So you're the one that finally hogtied that slippery one. Humph. Well, you are a pretty one, I'll say that. But I don't know why you're suffrin'. I'm sure you get everything you need including a hard prick whenever you want it and probably even when you don't." Miss Opal cackled and the man laughed as well. They enjoyed the joke.

"Maybe that' why she's sufferin'," Thad said, still laughing. "Maybe she gets a prick up the ass as well."

"If you don't mind," Sibella said, trying to control her voice that threatened to quaver and give her nervousness away, "I have something important to talk with you about - it's 'suffrage,' the right to vote."

Miss Opal and the big man became silent.

"You mean like voting on city ordinances like noise and maybe even voting for sheriff and maybe even one of us, maybe even me, sitting on town councils and all?"

"Yes," Sibella said. "Exactly that."

"Ha," the man said. "That's the goddam stupidest thing I ever fuckin' heard of. Women voting. Shit." The man spat out the door, trying to make Sibella jump. But she stood her ground and the blob of spittle landed harmlessly near her foot.

"Come on in, sweetie, and have some coffee," Miss Opal said. "Thad, finish cleanin' up from last night – empty the spittoons and swamp the floors – and keep your opinions to yourself. Don't let no one bother us in the parlor." She slipped an arm through Sibella's. "Well, Mrs. Cartwright. I even got some fresh pastries. Kinda a deal I give to the baker – you know, my sweets for his."

And Sibella walked through the long entry hall into the gaudy parlor of a true whorehouse. If her mother knew where her daughter was, she'd faint dead away.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**IV**

Adam open the front door.

"Sibella!"

Adam's voice thundered through the house. Sibella, who had been looking out the window to confirm that it was Adam arriving and not someone else in a buckboard, jumped back into bed and pulled the sheet up to her neck, then, thinking better of it, pushed the sheet down to her waist and then kicked it off completely. She knew she would look more fetching lying there in her light gown than if she covered herself. But if she had a headache…. She pulled the sheet back up to her waist, lay back down and arranged her hair to lay partially over the pillow case and over her shoulders. She placed one arm in a dramatic fashion across her forehead and eyebrows. The laudanum bottle and glass were on the nightstand, perfect props.

"Sibella!"

Sibella cringed at the tone of Adam's voice, her heart thudding. He was angry and Sibella knew why. How long had it taken for word to get to him that his wife had visited the whorehouse? And what would he say to her – or do - now?

Downstairs, Mrs. George rushed out of the kitchen holding Noah who was gnawing on a piece of hardtack, soggy clumps of the cracker about his mouth and chin. The Mister was in a rage and the housekeeper found herself terrified of him. How the Missus managed him, Mrs. George knew, but wondered if the Missus trembled at his wrath as she herself did when he roared.

"Where is she?" Adam demanded, his hands on his hips. He had tossed his hat on a chair and stood facing the frightened housekeeper, his legs braced as if waiting for a fight to ensue.

"In bed, sir," she answered, quavering.

"At this time? It's only a little after four. Sibella! Get down here! Now!"

At the sound of his father's loud voice, Noah jerked and then burst into wails. Mrs. Gregory comforted him with, "Hush, hush, my sweet! Your Pa's not angry with you."

"I'm sorry son." Adam caressed Noah's head and kissed the swirly black hair. "It's that mother of yours that's got me going."

"The Missus has one of her headaches and took to her bed." Mrs. Gregory cuddled Noah closer, the wet, sticky mess about his mouth smearing the top of her apron.

"A headache? That's not all that'll ache when I'm through with her." Adam purposefully strode up the stairs and Mrs. Gregory sighed in relief. She hoped that the Missus had played her hand well or there would be hell to pay with that husband of hers.

"Now, hush, hush, my sweet," Mrs. Gregory said to Noah who had finished crying but still had rosy cheeks wet with tears, his lower lip pursed in a pout. "Let's go finish making dinner for your father – his favorite – a nice roast chicken with new potatoes all roasted in butter and parsley and berry pie for dessert. That should put him in a good mood."

Adam pushed open the bedroom door and looked at Sibella lying in the bed. Her thin gown fell against her skin, caressing her breasts and he felt his anger partially subside. Then she slowly opened her eyes and smiled weakly, bringing her arm down that had been resting above her eyes as if protecting them from any light even though the drapes had been drawn.

"What were you shouting about?" Sibella asked in a small voice as if it was an effort to talk.

"You know damn well. What the hell were you doing visiting a whorehouse?" He had stridden to the side of the bed and was looking down at her, resisting the temptation to grab a well-turned ankle and drag her off the bed.

 _"_ _Adam," Hoss said, bursting through the door of the mill office. Adam had just finished negotiating a salary dispute with the line boss and was feeling cranky and annoyed._

 _"_ _What the hell…" Adam saw Hoss' face and stood up from behind the desk. "What is it? What's wrong?" His heart thumped. Noah – Pa had dropped him on his head!_

 _"_ _Now, Adam…" Hoss put out both hands as if trying to calm a bull about to charge. "Now ain't no one hurt and ain't nothin' wrong – zactly…"_

 _Adam noticed men, not only the mill workers but a few townspeople as well, gathered around the office door, jostling to get a look inside. And they were grinning, some trying to keep from bursting into laughter. Joe had stepped inside the room and his green eyes were sparkling with humor. Adam knew then that something truly dreadful had happened – not tragic, not catastrophic – just dreadful and his gut told him it had to do with Sibella. He had suspected she had been up to something and here it was._

 _"_ _What do you mean by 'exactly'?" Adam waited, working a pencil across the fingers of one hand as if he was performing a sleight of hand trick._

 _"_ _Now, Adam, like I said, stay calm."_

 _Adam stepped closer until he was within inches of Hoss' face. "Tell me why you're here and make it quick or someone WILL be hurt."_

 _Hoss swallowed. "Today…this afternoon', that is…Tally here, well he and Lem Casey and a coupla others found me out on the property – you know Joe and me been castrating them calve,s and well, seems like they was lookin' to find you 'cause…" Hoss paused, swallowing again and grimacing._

 _"_ _WHAT?" Adam roared, and the pencil between his knuckles snapped in two as he closed his hands into fists._

 _Hoss jumped slightly – then the words rushed out. "Sibella went to visit Miss Opal's Sportin' House."_

 _"_ _What? How the…"_

 _Now Hoss couldn't tell Adam fast enough. "Yeah, Adam. Seems she went right inside and Tally here…" Hoss motioned to the doorway and Old Tally, as he was called due to his age which no one, not even he himself knew, stepped into the room. But he hid behind Hoss in case Adam took his temper out on him – even if he was an old man. "Well, Tally, you saw it, you tell 'im." Hoss pushed Tally out in front of him and the man attempted to work himself back to the protection of Hoss' bulk._

 _"_ _Will someone tell me what the goddam hell happened?" Adam was now more frustrated than anything else._

 _"_ _Well, Adam," Old Tally said, cringing slightly, "seems Mrs. Cartwright walked right up to the door of the sportin' house and knocked – just as bold as brass. Then she went in and didn't come out for nigh onto an hour."_

 _Adam felt deflated, as if he had suddenly become hollow. Damn, Sibella! How could she make him the butt of vile jokes which now began to be spouted by the group along with the accompanying laughter:_

 _"_ _She gettin' tips from Opal on how to get you hard?"_

 _"_ _Your wife need to make herself a little pin money by falling on her back?"_

 _"_ _Hey, Adam, I promise I'll be her first customer!"_

 _"_ _You not able to stick it up your wife anymore? She havin' to look for her fun elsewhere?"_

 _"_ _Hey, Adam, you puttin' your wife to work?"_

 _Adam picked up his hat and pushing his way out among the laughing men, he climbed into the buckboard, released the brake, and taking up the reins, turned the buckboard to head to his house._

"Oh, Adam…could you keep your voice down? My head's just throbbing and the laudanum hasn't yet…" Sibella moved her head, arching her back slightly as if in pain. "This is a bad headache. Can we talk about whatever it is tomorrow?" Sibella reached down for the sheet and pulled it to her neck, turning her head aside.

Adam reached down and pulled the sheet back, exposing her. Sibella's eyes snapped open and she saw Adam's angry face as he leaned down. "You know, Sibella, there's an old Indian saying, Paiute, I believe…a pain in the head is soon forgotten by a bigger pain in the ass. Ever heard that one before?"

"Adam, I really do have a headache…it was so hot and the horse kept misbehaving…" Sibella began to cry. It wasn't difficult as her nerves had been on edge at the audacity of what she had done – she couldn't even believe it herself. And then, when she had walked out of Miss Opal's, arm in arm with the madam who said goodbye to her at her gate and gave her a kiss on the cheek, Sibella saw the men and a few bar maids who had gathered in front of the Bucket of Blood to watch her, all agog. Sibella knew then that Adam would be told about her visit to Miss Opal's even before she had a chance – not that she had intended to tell him but now he would definitely know – and all she could do was attempt to soften the blow. The claim to a headache seemed the only way to mitigate matters.

"Sibella…" Adam softened toward her just like Noah's soggy piece of hardtack. Sibella was often like a misbehaving child whom Adam delighted in indulging and spoiling. But what if she was lying about the headache? Sibella often did get headaches and have to take to her bed, but this seemed a bit too convenient. "Just tell me why you went to see Miss Opal and I'll leave you to sleep. Why, Sibella?"

She turned her large, tear-filled, blue eyes on Adam and she saw her husband's shoulders fall. He sat down gently on the side of the bed and pushed back the heavy stands of her hair.

"Just tell me, sweetheart."

"I…well, we – that is the quilting group – had been discussing having new members…" Sibella swallowed; she didn't want to lie outright to Adam. "I invited Miss Opal and her…employees…to join us Friday." Sibella audibly sighed in relief; it wasn't a lie even though it wasn't a complete revelation.

"To join you? You invited the whores to join the quilting group?"

"Yes." Sibella waited, barely breathing.

Adam stood up, thrusting his hands in his pants' pockets. He pursed his lips and paced back and forth for a bit while Sibella watched.

"All right, Sibella. We'll talk about it tomorrow."

"On the way to the meeting?" she meekly asked.

"No, no, Sibella. First thing in the morning. The very first thing." Adam stared down at Sibella, then turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Sibella lay and listened to her pulse pounding in her ears, then reached down and pulled the sheet up to her neck – and then over her head. She knew the worst seemed to be over but nothing was certain when it came to Adam. He was an unpredictable man, thought about things long after one expected it, and although she could usually handle him, subdue his anger and soothe his temper, she dreaded the day she no longer could. And that day may soon be approaching. Sibella wondered if she had done the right thing by approaching Miss Opal, but it was far too late to take anything back or change anything. And sincere tears escaped from the corners of her eyes over the thought that she might actually lose Adam one day over something as foolish as a vote. Small comfort casting a ballot would be if she could never feel Adam's arms about her or hear his voice that thrilled her, that thrummed through her being whenever he spoke of love to her, heating her blood.

Sibella threw the sheet off her head and sighed into the emptiness of the room. Empty, empty, empty.


	5. Chapter 5

**Be cautioned that this section contains semi-graphic sex . It is not gratuitous as it functions for juxtaposition with another scene.**

 **V**

Sibella opened her eyes, stretched, and glanced over to see Adam's back. _He must have opened the drapes a bit before he came to bed_ , Sibella thought, as a shaft of early sunlight knifed through the room. She studied the hair curling at the nape of his neck and about his ears. A few gray hairs were intermingled with the raven black strands. He needed a haircut, the back of his neck shaved, but she smiled at how boyish the rogue waves made him look. _How beautiful he must have been as a child, as a young boy, with his sweetly curved mouth and hazel eyes -like our son_ , Sibella thought.. She reached out and lightly touched the back of Adam's neck, ruffling the curls; he moved slightly in his sleep. Sibella moved closer and reached over his hips and firmly grabbed his penis. Then he woke.

"Well, good morning," Adam said, rolling onto his back. Sibella, smiling slyly, moved so she could rise on one elbow while still grasping him, feeling him harden in her hand. Distracting him seemed to be the best move, she considered. If she could make him late for whatever he needed to do that day, then she wouldn't have to discuss Miss Opal's Sporting House and her visit until supper, or, if she managed to delay it even longer, until riding into town and then Mrs. George would be along with Noah.

"Good morning, darling," Sibella said.

Adam rose up on his forearms to watch while she fondled his prick. "I take it you feel better this morning."

"Much better. It's amazing what a good night's sleep can heal." She bent down and kissed the angry head in her fist.

"It's not going to work, Sibella."

"Oh, I think so – a few more strokes and you'll be harder than a bedpost."

"No," he said, sitting up and gripping her wrist. "Not that and let me go. We need to have a little talk. Remember?"

"Oh." Sibella reluctantly released Adam and considered that she should have pulled off her nightgown. After all, she had woken up desiring him, her heart swelling with love for this man who was the father of her child. She would have liked to enjoy him that morning but Adam and his damnable memory! The man forgot nothing!

"Now, Sibella – I want a straight answer - why did you go see Miss Opal?"

"I told you, Adam. I invited her and some of the other women to our meeting tonight."

"I know that, but why?"

"Because…" Sibella felt uncomfortable as Adam closely watched her; he would pounce at the first lie.

"Okay, Adam. I invited Miss Opal and her girls – I mean workers - because tonight we're going to discuss women's suffrage and they're women as well. Just because they sell their bodies to make a living doesn't mean they shouldn't have rights. And since the laws and ordinances of Virginia City affect them as well, probably even more since they're marginalized, I invited them and Miss Opal accepted. I don't know about the others because they were still asleep."

Adam suppressed a grin. "Where did you learn the term, 'marginalized'?"

"I read the papers – I know the term refers to people who society…disregards…ignores. And I, well, I feel a bit sorry for them, especially after I talked to Miss Opal." Sibella became more animated as she talked. And Adam paid close attention to everything she said. Sometimes it made her self-conscious to be watched so closely. "Do you know, Adam, that many whores start when they're still girls and that they have little to no education! None! Some barely know how to write their names. And that they only work for five years or so – some lucky ones for up to 15 years but then, it's for practically nothing as no one wants them. Don't you think that's awful?"

"Yes, it is awful, but Sibella, you can't solve the world's ills and you shouldn't be consorting with whores."

"Why not?" She raised her chin in defiance.

"Because you're a lady from a good family and shouldn't be having tea and cookies in a cat house. For God's sake, Sibella, do you know how that looks? You have a child and if for nothing else, you shouldn't have gone for Noah's sake alone!"

Sibella rose on her knees. "You always said that you felt that women should be educated, that they deserved to have all the rights that men have, didn't you? Well, didn't you?"

"Tread lightly, Sibella," Adam said, holding up a finger. "Don't twist my words. I said that no female who wanted an education should be denied. That's what I said. And I also said that if a woman was conversant in politics and knew what was what about the candidates and the topics, then she should be allowed to vote."

"Or even run for office. You said that once – remember?" Sibella said eagerly.

"Yes, yes, I did, but I think, if I remember correctly, that when I said it, I just wanted you to shut up and lie back and let me fuck you. It served me at the time to hold that opinion."

"Well, it's good to know that I'm married to a hypocrite." Sibella pulled her nightgown from under her knees and proceeded to climb off the bed but Adam grabbed her about the waist and pulled her back into his arms.

"Now, Sibella, it seems that it's you who's the little hypocrite." He held her close, enjoying her softness and warmth as well as the smell of her hair and skin. He regretted not letting her "take him in hand" earlier.

"Oh, really? And how am I a hypocrite?" She struggled in his arms but he held her firmly.

"You wake up and fondle my prick, try your best to arouse me but it's not because you want me or even that you love me. You just want to keep me from asking you for the truth. That's a bit of hypocrisy."

Sibella stopped struggling and relaxed against Adam's chest. "That's not completely true although…all right, I did have an ulterior motive but it's not as if you wouldn't have enjoyed it too. I knew you would be angry about Miss Opal – I saw all those nosy parkers watching me – knew someone would tell you about it."

"You're right about that; they couldn't wait to tell me about you or bait me with comments. How do you think that made me feel, that my wife would do something like that with or without my knowledge?"

Sibella turned her head and looked up at Adam's face; his cheeks and chin and neck covered with stubble, his coarse, black chest hair, rough against her cheek. "I'm sorry, Adam."

He kissed the top of her head. "I should take you over my knee and if you hadn't had that headache last night, I would have…you did have a headache." He cocked his head to one side as he looked into her ingenuous eyes.

"Yes. But I do feel better now, much better. As a matter of fact," Sibella said, "I think I feel just as healthy as one of Miss Opal's girls. She said they get the doctor in once a month to check them – Dr. Martin! Can you see him, Dr. Martin of all people, checking between all those women's legs?"

Adam laughed and rolled the two of them over so Sibella lay on her back. She reached up and touched the curls about one ear. "You look like a little boy with all these curls."

"I haven't been a little boy in a long time…and I'll prove it." He kissed her neck and ran his hands down her sides, then pulled up her gown to feel her smooth white skin and the curly hair covering her mons.

"Adam? Have you ever been to Miss Opal's? I mean, ever?"

Adam stopped and looked down at Sibella. "Yes. Years ago I used to visit on a pretty regular basis."

"Who did you see? Miss Opal?"

"No, not Miss Opal." Adam pushed her gown up to her neck and kissed the tip of each breast.

"Who then? I'd like to know if I'm going to come face to face with a woman who's slept with you. I mean she's been with you, felt you inside and…who?"

Adam raised his head and sighed in frustration. "It was years ago – before the war."

"Did you have a favorite?" Sibella pulled herself free from under him.

"Yes, yes I did. Her name was Bethy and she knew better than to talk when all a man wants to do is fuck. In that way, a whore is more accommodating than a wife."

"You think that's funny, don't you?" Sibella frowned; Adam always managed to anger her in small ways, little digs and back-handed insults.

"Damn. I just remembered that I have to go to town with my father to hire more hands; spring roundup is getting underway. I better get dressed."

As Adam stood up, Sibella could see what she would be missing if she let him leave. "But, Adam…how can you leave when I'm…well, when I'm so lonely for you?" Sibella, still in bed, pulled her nightgown over her head and tossed it at Adam. He caught it and smiled. Sibella fell back onto the bed. "C'mon, cowboy. Show me what you got." And smiling, Sibella reached out for him.

Adam crawled back onto the bed and onto Sibella. She wrapped her legs about him, hooking her ankles together. "Now you can't leave until I'm fully satisfied." She threw her arms about his neck, looking up into his face. "Imagine I'm your favorite whore and that you've been on the trail without a woman for months."

"You mean with nothing but cattle to fuck?"

"Oh, Adam!" Sibella released her legs but they only fell helplessly to the outside of his hips and legs. "Let me up! Go fuck one of Miss Opal's whores or a steer! You seem to prefer either of those over me!"

"No, no, no, Sibella, not true," Adam smiled down at her angry face, caressing her hair. "Not true at all. When I'm with you…." He closed his eyes as her slickness allowed him easy entry and her heat and tightness made him shiver with desire. "Damn, woman, I can't think of anything else except how much I adore you."

Sibella closed her eyes in delight, enjoying all the sensations as any anger she held dissipated. And at that moment, woman's suffrage and denying Adam were the furthest things from her mind. All she could think of was this man and his hunger. And her hunger for him.


	6. Chapter 6

**VI**

"Adam, keep your voice down – you'll wake Noah." Ben looked above his head, waiting to hear a wail from the floor above.

"Took both Pa and me to get 'im down," Hoss said. "Noah was so excited to be here and you know how Hop Sing and Pa spoil 'im. But when Noah started to get fussy and sleepy, Hop Sing done went to Chinatown for his weekly fan tan game and left us with a cranky child. I swear, Adam, that Noah gets his temper from you."

Adam glowered at them both. Obviously, they didn't understand the full import of what had happened. "I'm telling you, Pa, it was all I could do not to grab Sibella, toss her over my shoulder and drag her back home!" Adam had modulated his voice but his fury still showed. He paced back and forth. "I was suspicious when Sibella and Mrs. George walked out with this pile of quilts and a big basket of food. And all the way to town, they were quiet – too quiet."

"Now exactly what did she say?" Ben asked as he sat down. Hoss did as well but Adam was too angry, too infuriated with Sibella.

"I told you. I dropped Sibella off and there were more women streaming into the place than ever before – they all had quilts and baskets or food pails. I went to the Silver Dollar to pass the time and noticed there were no barmaids. None."

"Not a one?" Hoss asked.

"None! Not a single, solitary one. The place was like an undertaker's. Barkeep said he didn't know why none of the women had shown for work. I had a few beers, played some low-stakes poker and then went to pick up Sibella - they usually break up about 9:00. Well, 9:00 came and went and all the men were there waiting to walk their wives home or drive them home like me and nothing. Not one wife, mother…not one woman came out so I climbed down and tried the door and it was locked. I could hear them inside, talking away so I banged on the door and Sibella comes to the door. Now the men start crowding around, asking for their wives, you know - why everyone's so late - and I tell Sibella it's time to go, for her to get her things – we still have to pick up Noah and such.

"She tells me to wait a minute, closes the door and next I know, I hear my wife on that balcony above the entrance. So I back up to see and it's not just Sibella, there's Bessie Sue, Miss Opal and the mayor's wife—Mrs. Spencer."

"Miss Opal?" Ben asked. "Miss Opal is there with Sibella, with the other women?"

"Yes. Miss Opal. Why?"

"Nothing. I just find it unusual – I mean it cuts into her business…" Ben realized Adam was looking at him oddly. "Nothing. I'm just surprised."

"And you say Bessie Sue was there?" Hoss couldn't believe it. He knew Bessie Sue could do almost as much work as he could and take any man in hand-wrestling. She even chewed on occasion and thought nothing of cursing such a blue streak it would part your hair, so it was hard for Hoss to believe that she would align herself with the women of Virginia City.

"Couldn't miss Bessie Sue – she towered over Sibella and Miss Opal and the mayor's wife. And then Sibella steps forward to talk to her 'audience' and says that all of them – all the women who've gathered there - are going to stay in the community center for as long as it takes until the men agree to pass a city statute allowing women living within 50 miles of Virginia City to vote on local issues. She said they have food and blankets and everything they need and can hold out for weeks. And then she asked if the men think they can bear being without their women to cook and clean and take care of the children. Are their wives so unimportant that they can deny them the vote?

"Let me tell you, Pa, it looked like the men were going to break through the front door. But then Sibella says that they could break in and force their wives to come home but that there would be no cooking or cleaning, and definitely no 'consorting' between men and women, husbands and wives."

"Consortin'? That mean what I think it means?" Hoss asked.

"It sure as hell does, Hoss – just what you think."

"Damn," Hoss said. "And Bessie Sue and I was planning on consortin' tomorrow night."

"Well, you might just as well forget that. It was all I could do to stop Harris Huston from throwing rocks at Sibella. I mean I had to grab his arm and practically knock him down. Two men dragged me off of him and I don't know how a full-scale brawl didn't break out. Next we know, the women had gone back inside and then everyone turned on me. It was my wife who started all of it, they said and they're right. I thought they were going to beat the tar out of me, kick my ass down the street and then hang me by my heels and throw horse droppings at me. They were calling to have Sibella pulled out of the community center by force, despite my trying to talk reason, but Roy and Clem had shown up by then and got everything under control – somehow. Anyway, Roy said there was nothing he could do about it since no law was broken – it was a community center and the women had a right to use it. But he wasn't happy – not happy at all. And I think it's probably because Widow Jones was in there and you know how sweet he is on her.

"And then Rich Driscoll called for having Sibella locked up for 'inciting to riot' but Roy said that if the men proceeded to become unruly, he'd have to lock them up instead. So, it's become a contest now – who can hold out the longer – the men or the women. I tried, but couldn't get Sibella to talk to me alone so I just came here. I have to think on this."

The front door opened and Joe came in. He slammed it shut and glared at Adam while he pulled off his hat. "Thanks to your wife, Adam," Joe said unbuckling his gun belt, "there wasn't one barmaid at The Bucket of Blood and I found out from Manse Jerald that the only person at Miss Opal's is Thad, the bouncer – all the whores are gone to the community center. And the only reason I stopped by the saloon is because Molly French refused to sit on her porch with me. Said she was showing unity with all the other women in town. Apparently, they're having nothing to do with men except talk, that is until the women of Virginia City get the vote. Her mother refused to cook dinner so her father ate cold bean sandwiches for dinner and then threw the bean pot across the kitchen. And, according to Molly, the whole, wonderful idea of the women rebelling was Sibella's. Adam," Joe said wagging a finger at his oldest brother, "you need to put a leash on your wife and it wouldn't be a bad idea to buckle on a muzzle either!"

Adam was about to answer, leaning into Joe, one finger raised for his counterpoint comment, when a sudden knock interrupted.

"What fresh hell now?" Adam mumbled as he opened the door. An obviously disgruntled Roy Coffee stood framed in the doorway. "Come in, Roy."

"Adam, you gotta talk to your wife, you've gotta tell her to call this thing off,' Roy said as he stepped into the light. "The town council's meeting early in the morning to discuss it, but some of those men, well, they're talking about tar and feathering…"

~ 0 ~

"Second thoughts?" Miss Opal said as she came up behind Sibella who stood gazing out a window into the darkness. It seemed the whole world was asleep. Sibella wondered about her child and Adam. Was her husband asleep as well or was he too angry to sleep?

Sibella was startled at the voice behind her and then smiled, one hand flying to her breast. "You surprised me. Can't you sleep either?"

"Not one for sleeping in long stretches – an hour or two here and there. What about you?" Miss Opal was far from young and far from pretty but there was an open honesty about her and Sibella felt a warmth toward the woman. "You missin' that handsome husband of yours?"

"Yes, but I suppose I shouldn't admit it. I mean, I asked all these women to leave their husbands and children and then I…" Sibella covered her face with her hands; she wanted her child, wanted to kiss his plump cheeks and hear his laughter. And she wanted Adam - desperately.

"Now, now," Miss Opal put an arm about Sibella's shoulders. At the sympathetic gesture, Sibella broke into quiet sobs. "Now stop your cryin'. I know men – that is my business – and they can't be long without a woman. They're just made differently than women. Now a woman, she can go for long stretches, years even, without a man and consider herself well-off, but a man, he's got to have a woman, got have a soft body under him and a pair of legs wrapped about him."

"If that's so, then Adam might find another woman to replace me." This thought was the worst one for Sibella, that Adam would hold another woman in his arms and take pleasure from her while she, Sibella, slept alone only wrapped in a quilt and not her husband's strong arms.

"He's a Cartwright, ain't he? Those Cartwrights…they're a type of men all by themselves – loyal and honest. Let me tell you a little story, child.

"I've been in Virginia City for years, even before it was called Virginia City so I've seen a lot of things change – including people. Now, I was never very pretty…" Sibella started to protest but Miss Opal just smiled. "I know I ain't pretty but that's all right. See, men don't care if a woman's pretty or not if all he wants is to rut. And I found early on they're willing to pay for it.

"I started fallin' on my back for two bits when I was about 14 – I left home then – used to follow the miners around. Well, when I was about 17, I settled here and worked in The Bucket of Blood. We weren't supposed to have anythin' to do with the customers 'cept have 'em buy drinks and such but if a man wanted to see one of us after work, well, Rich, the barkeep, never told on us to the owner. If the owner'd known, he would have demanded a cut but it was the only way to keep body and soul together – and life was hard. Well, guess life isn't any easier now, just seems like it. But there was one handsome rancher who'd come in ever' so often and have a beer and he caught my eye. But he'd always drink alone and never did have much truck with me or the other barmaids. Found out he was a scrub rancher, widowed with two sons – young ones too."

"My father-in-law?" Sibella asked.

"Yup, handsome Ben Cartwright – and he was handsome – still is really."

"Yes, he is a handsome man," Sibella said. She had never really thought of her father-in-law as a man, as someone who had needs and desires, but of course, that was ridiculous. But then, Sibella considered, all her thoughts were about Adam and his needs and desires.

"It was funny," Miss Opal continued, "on the days Ben'd bring his family to town, there'd be Ben and his handsome dark-haired son walkin' alongside and followed by a Chinese man totin' a huge, smilin' baby boy. One time a few girls and I were restin' on the walk outside the saloon, no customers inside, and Ben and the Chinaman were in the mercantile leavin' his two sons outside. I swear, that Hoss was about two years old or so then and it was all Adam could do to keep him from runnin' out into the street! We laughed and then Shirley, one of the barmaids walked over to them and chucked Adam under the chin and told 'im he was handsome and hoped that when he got old enough, he'd come see her.

"Well, he turned red as a sunset and we laughed as she kissed him on his cheek before she came back. That poor boy! And when Ben came out of the store well, we expected Adam to tell and for Ben to come over and give us what-for but you know what? Adam never said one word – never. The next time Ben came in, I sat down with him and he was 'bout as shy as Adam was, like a small boy – he charmed me a hundred times over. And slowly we became friends – if you know what I mean."

"Yes," Sibella said, slightly embarrassed, "I think I do. But what has this to do with Adam and me – not that I don't find this an interesting story…"

"You'll see in a minute," Miss Opal said. "Well, like I said, me and your father-in-law became close friends and I talked 'bout how I'd like to open a 'sportin' house'. I mean like him, I could see what was happenin', see the future in a way, that the territory was growin' and so was Virginia City. Where there are unmarried men or men without women, a sportin' house does well, but I had no money to start one and the bank had turned me down for a loan. So Ben staked me – loaned me the money that he had saved to buy more acreage just to help me start out.

"Well, let me tell you, I no sooner had a house, hired me a few girls and business boomed! Within a year I paid Ben back all the money – and some. Oh, he didn't want to take the extra money but I insisted – told him it was interest. I found I had a head for finance and Ben was pleased as he could buy more land now.

"Ben and me, well, we had a regular relationship and he even talked about my retiring, sellin' the house to someone else and settlin' down on the Ponderosa as Mrs. Ben Cartwright – he even had me over to dinner once although that Chinaman didn't like me none – called me something in Chinese behind my back. But I started thinkin' about what it'd be like to be a rancher's wife, a mother to both Hoss and Adam and seriously considered it. Then Ben went to New Orleans and came back with a wife, Joseph's mother. A few days later, he came over to tell me he was married. I tried to get him to, you know, keep me on the side, but he wouldn't. Ben was polite but distant, said he felt he owed me to tell me himself. I tried a few more times once I heard Joe's mother was big with child, but nothing. He stayed faithful to her even after she'd been dead for a year or two. He grieved a long time. I think that when a Cartwright man finally marries, he's true-blue. Maybe that's why they stay single so long. That Adam, he was single a long time and trust me, he had many a woman after him trying to trap him before he married you. I'd say he was sure in love if he married - and I don't think he'd take comfort in another woman no matter what."

"I hope you're right," Sibella said. She turned at a sound outside, looking out the window. It was a horse and rider.

"I think that's your husband now," Miss Opal said. "And if I was you, I'd go out and see what he wants."

"And what if what he wants is to rut in the street?" Sibella asked, attempting levity.

"Stay on top and hold your skirts up so as not to get them dirty." Miss Opal winked and Sibella laughed, her pulse racing; Adam had come to see her.


	7. Chapter 7

**VII**

Sibella, with a catch in her throat, realized she was as thrilled to face Adam as the first time they met in her parents' parlor. In the darkness, the glistening light from a waning moon only made him look more desirable, and since it was dark, younger – years younger, blurring the lines about his eyes and mouth. Before her, she could actually envision the young man, barely out of boyhood, learning the ways of life and the ways of love. Who had been his first woman, Sibella wondered. Had he loved her? What had been his aspirations then? Had he changed what he believed about God and man from those of his youth? What, back then, had he thought he wanted in a wife? Was she, Sibella, the type of woman he had always desired? The type of wife?

"I'm glad I didn't have to wake up the whole place to talk to you," Adam said with a half-smile. He had taken off his hat, years of politeness causing the reflexive action and held it in his hands. But Sibella knew from the way he held his Stetson, that her husband felt awkward and her heart swelled with love for him; he was so vulnerable.

"Is Noah all right?"

"Yes," Adam said, smiling but looking down at his hat as he switched it from one hand to another, slapping it once on a thigh before he looked up. "He gave Pa and Hoss a rough time going down for the night but he was asleep by the time I got there." Adam looked at his wife, a forced smile on his face. "Pa said he ate well – even with Hop Sing having given him a sugar tit."

"I don't like those things," Sibella said. "I think they're just…well, for a baby they're as bad as chewing tobacco and they can ruin his teeth."

"He doesn't have any yet," Adam said, holding his hat with one hand. "Now, don't frown, Sibella. You'll get wrinkles in that lovely forehead." Adam stepped closer and touched her forehead, running one finger along it as if tracing a wrinkle. Sibella lightly took his hand and in an unexpected gesture – unexpected by either one of them, she tenderly kissed it before releasing it.

"Sibella…" Adam's voice became intimate, deep in his throat, and he pulled Sibella into his arms, burying his lips in her hair and his breast swelled with emotion. But Sibella pulled away and stepped back. Adam chuckled as his arms fell to his sides. "Won't consort with the enemy, huh?"

"Oh, Adam, you're not my enemy, it's just that, well, you once told me that you never ask anyone who works for you to do something you yourself wouldn't do and it was the same way during the war; what you asked from your men, you did as well. These women don't work for me, but these women have given up a great deal to support our cause – their husbands, their children. It hasn't been easy. Patty Broward started making excuses about having to leave, she finally said she might be going into labor and should really have her husband by her side - starting moaning and everything. But Mrs. Rowley and the mayor's wife more or less called her bluff. Finally, she admitted that she missed her husband and was only pretending. A few other women said they missed their husbands as well and doubted what we were doing. But finally, everyone agreed on our purpose."

"Sibella, do you miss me?" Adam quietly asked.

"Yes, I do. I miss my child as well. But I asked these women to do without…" Sibella's lower lip quivered and she had to pause, to renew her courage. "They're without their husbands and so I can't very well comfort myself with you. I shouldn't even be out here talking to you."

Adam sighed and put his hat back on. "The town council is meeting in the morning to discuss this…siege of the community center."

"Are they also going to discuss giving us the vote?"

"Probably going to discuss and vote on riding me and you out on a rail. They're mad, Sibella, really mad, and I don't think any of your numerous charms can win them over as they can me."

Sibella's expression hardened. Adam knew then that she wouldn't concede; the line was drawn.

"Sibella, is it really that important? I mean this isn't New York or Philadelphia where there are slums and desperate people, children begging in the streets, working in factories and women dying daily from childbirth because they can't afford a doctor. I understand why women would want to have a say in laws passed to rectify those situations but this is Virginia City. This is small stakes compared to the cities back east."

"Does that mean you think I'm wasting my time here and should go back east to work for suffrage? Just say the word, Adam." She jutted out her jaw, waiting for what Adam said next. She didn't want to leave and go back east and work for suffrage as she had before marrying him, before she fell so deeply in love, but if Adam told her to leave, told her that he didn't care what she did, she would leave. No matter what pain she would suffer, she would go.

"Sibella, don't push me. I came here because I'm honestly afraid for you. The whole town can take their anger out on me; I can defend myself, but a mob after your head…Sibella, this isn't some game. You're not playing a role in a Greek play – this is life, this is real and it's people's lives you're upending."

"Good! I hope all those placid men who expect their wives to serve up dinner on time every single day, to scrub and clean and bear child after child and still lay on their backs and spread their legs happily for their husbands' pleasure, I hope that this has upended their lives. It's not that women don't want to do many of those things, especially if the man works hard to support the family, - but women should be treated as equals – not as indentured servants! We have minds, we have needs and we have a right to be the masters – or mistresses – of our fates."

Sibella found she was shaking and wrapped her arms about herself. Adam stood silently, not offering anything.

"All right, Sibella," he said, untying his horse's reins from the post, "that all sounds admirable; I just hope you're sincere. I'll be at the council meeting tomorrow morning and so is Pa." Adam held the reins in his hands and looked down at them. Then he looked at Sibella. "I'll ask about allowing women to vote in local elections, possibly even running for office. Maybe they'll agree to add it to the town's statutes. I've always thought that women should be on more equal footing with men but I know that things don't happen overnight. It could take months or a year or so before the town council agrees to a change in the voting rules. You want things too fast, Sibella."

"Women shouldn't have to wait any longer. We've waited too long as it is." Sibella watched as Adam mounted up and a sense of desperation grabbed her. She grabbed the reins, looking up at Adam. "Adam, will all this…? You still love me, don't you?"

"Why are you talking to me about love? This has nothing to do with love. You want voting rights for women. Do you think the council should vote 'yes' just because they love their wives, because they want a home-cooked meal and their beds warmed? Shouldn't they vote for it because they think it's the right thing?"

Still holding the reins of the horse that was eager to go home, Sibella tried to judge the expression on Adam's face but it was shadowed by the hat brim. She couldn't see his eyes. "You said something about a play, a Greek play. What play?"

"It was a play about the women of Athens and their plan to end the Peloponnesian War. All the women were led by Lysistrata as it was all her idea She was tired of Athens losing husbands, brothers and sons in the war. And then there was the emptying of the treasury just to support the killing. The women withheld sex until the men agreed. They agreed and that was that."

Sibella wanly smiled. "I guess sex has always been used for barter, hasn't it?"

"Well," Adam said, "many a man has married for it." He sighed deeply, putting a hand on one thigh, looking down at Sibella. "If I asked you to come home with me, now, right now and give this up, would you?" He waited for her answer.

"Adam, please don't ask me." Sibella released the horse's reins and Adam gathered the slack, his horse raising its head and stepping backwards.

"I won't ask you, Sibella. I know your answer." Adam sharply turned his horse and kicked it into a canter.

Sibella watched her husband ride away until he was gone from sight. Gone. And then she felt Miss Opal's strong, comforting arm about her shoulders.

"What's the matter, honey?"

"Oh…" Sibella broke into heart-rending sobs. Miss Opal pulled Sibella into her arms, patting the back of her head as she cried like a broken-hearted child.

"Now, now, wha'd he say that got you so upset?"

Sibella couldn't answer, sobs wracking her small body.

Mrs. Hardy came to the door and stepped outside. "I heard some noise… Now what's all this about?" she asked, sympathetically.

"Adam Cartwright was just here and I'm tryin' to find out too what's got Sibella so upset."

"Here, child," Mrs. Hardy said, pulling a handkerchief out of her skirt pocket. "Now just tell us what it is? Maybe it's not as bad as you think."

Sibella took the handkerchief and wiped the tears away but new ones just took their place. "He doesn't love me anymore. I asked him and he never said."

Miss Opal and Mrs. Hardy looked at each other over Sibella's bowed head. Young wives. What did they know about marriage, about men?

"Now I doubt it's true he doesn't love you. Did he say he didn't love you anymore?" Mrs. Hardy bent down to look into Sibella's lowered face.

"No, not in so many words. But I know – I felt it. He thinks what we're doing, what I'm doing is wrong."

"Did he say it was wrong?" Miss Opal asked.

"No, not exactly."

Mrs. Hardy sighed. "Well what exactly did he say?"

Sibella put a hand over her mouth; it helped to compose herself. She stood up straight. "He said that I was toying with people's lives and then he asked me to go home with him – well, he said that if he asked me to go home with him, would I?"

"And?" Miss Opal asked. "What'd you say?"

"I said for him not to ask me, and then he said that he didn't have to because he knew my answer and then he left."

"I don't understand," Mrs. Hardy said. "Just when did he say he didn't love you anymore?"

"Well, he didn't – outright. I just know!"

Mrs. Hardy sighed deeply. "Sibella, Clovis and me, we 've been married 30 years. 30 years of my life I've been with that man and he ain't easy to live with. He drinks too much and snores like a hibernatin' bear. So, if I can still love him and he can still love me after all the things we've said to each other, all the arguments we've had and the fryin' pans I've threatened to dent over his thick skull through the years, then let me assure you, that man of yours still loves you. What he wanted to know was if you still loved him."

"What? I don't…"

Miss Opal turned Sibella's chin up as she stood at least a head taller. "Sibella, that man is worried that you don't love him. Can't you see that? He asked if you love him enough to leave all this behind and go off with him. It's that man who's thinkin' you don't love him anymore."

"But he knows I love him!" Sibella's heart thudded. And then she felt her blood freeze - perhaps Adam didn't know. Perhaps he thought she didn't love him – or at least not very much. But she would tell him. Once this was all over, she would tell him. Even better, she would show him.

"Now c'mon inside." Miss Opal said, guiding Sibella. "See if you can get some sleep. We've got a long day ahead of us."


	8. Chapter 8

**VIII**

"I don't think it's such an unusual request. I mean the women of Virginia City are knowledgeable about city politics. Many other states and territories allow women limited voting rights. We could start off small, you know, school board elections, minor offices…" Adam looked about the table at the other men in the council-room. Not a one would meet his eye. Even his own father, looking down at the table as if studying the pattern of the woodgrain, didn't appear to support him.

Hoss and Joe stood against the wall; not being members of the council, they could only listen and observe along with the other townsmen who stood or sat in the few available chairs. Roy Coffee stood in the open doorway, catching any breeze. The room full of people, was quickly becoming hot and added to Adam's nervousness; he appeared to be the only advocate for the women. He could feel the sweat roll down his temples, his chest and back. He wondered if he would end up in a fight with one or more of these men before the morning was over.

 _"_ _We're comin' along just in case," Hoss said, standing by the saddled horses. Joe stood alongside, a stubborn look on his face, his hat low on his forehead._

 _Adam stood, holding his horse's reins. "Pa's coming along and I don't need bodyguards."_

 _"_ _We think you do," Joe said. Hoss nodded in support. "Besides, we want to know what happens, what the council decides."_

 _"_ _Yeah, we ain't gonna wait around here until you and Pa get back."_

 _"_ _I thought you and Joe had work to do," Ben Cartwright said, walking out of the house. At his voice, his horse raised its head. "I could have sworn that we had cattle to brand and count. But of course, I'm only the oldest member of this family who oversees everything. What the hell do I know?"_

 _Adam smiled and fingered the leather reins in his hands._

 _"_ _Now, c'mon, Pa," Hoss said, his face taking on the mien of a 10-year-old boy asking for another piece of pie. "Joe and me, well, we been talkin' 'bout how you and Adam might be the target of…what was that you said, Joe?"_

 _"_ _Sublimated hostilities."_

 _Adam laughed. "Well, I'll be damned! Where the hell did you learn a ten-dollar word like that?"_

 _"_ _I read it in a book. You aren't the only one who knows things, Adam."_

 _"_ _Yeah," Hoss agreed, bristling. "Joe said that people are mad at Sibella but they can't do nothin' to her 'cause she's a female woman, so they might take that anger out on you. It's like when you're mad at someone but can't hit them so you punch the wall instead."_

 _"_ _Hmmm. I know exactly what Joe means," Adam said. "For example, there's that fresh hole in your bedroom wall from last night when you learned Bessie Sue wouldn't be consorting."_

 _Ben put up one hand to end the conversation before he mounted his horse. "Adam, I think it might be a good idea for them to come along after all. Joe might be right and, well, I don't know if I'd be any good in a fight anymore."_

 _And all four Cartwrights rode to town early on a Saturday morning for an impromptu town council meeting._

"So you're saying we should just give in?" Mayor Spencer said, frowning. "You think we should allow ourselves to be blackmailed by the women, by our wives. The man is supposed to be the head of the household."

"That's right," Clovis Hardy said, nodding in agreement. Nods and murmurs went about the room. "In the Holy Bible, in the good book itself, it says that wives should be busy at home and subject to their husbands."

A few "amens" could be heard but someone joked, "You better tell that to Agnes, not us," and laughter broke out. Even Adam had to smile as they all knew that in Clovis' house, his broad-hipped, big-boned wife ran everything, including him. Crockery often flew at Clovis' head.

"Clovis has a point though," Abner Rowley said. "I've always kept a Christian household, raised three Godfearing children and in Timothy, verse 2, it says, 'I do not permit a woman to teach or to assume authority over a **man** ; she must be quiet'."

A noise went up from the room as the men talked between themselves.

"Listen to me," Adam said, pushing the chair back and standing. "This has nothing to do with blackmail or the Bible verses, it has to do with what's right. We can't keep women in the background any longer as if they haven't brains, haven't the ability to think." Adam raised his voice to be heard but no one was listening—the others were either agreeing with a point another had made or disagreeing. It was mass confusion.

"Roy! Roy!" Cosmo, the barkeep of The Sazerac, came running up to the door and the men fell silent. "Better come quick! Old man Caffey and Paulie Thompson been drinking all morning, complaining about what the women are doing. I finally had to stop serving them, they're so glassy-eyed drunk, and that made them even more ornery. Now they're heading over to the community center with torches – say they're going to burn the women out and end this whole thing! You best come fast!"

"Oh hell," Roy said and headed out at a fast jog. Adam, Hoss and Joe along with their father and the other men in the room, followed, all running to the community center.

Adam quickly overtook Roy, Joe, and a few other men who stayed close behind. There was a group standing in front of the community center and Adam shouldered his way through – and then stopped. In the clearing in front of the community center, Caffey and Thompson stood, wavering on unsteady legs, each one holding a lit torch. Empty kerosene containers lay about the base of the wooden building. The acrid odor of coal-tar creosote filled the air from the rising greenish-smoke made by the torches. Sibella, Bessie Sue, Mrs. Spencer, Miss Opal and Mrs. Hardy stood in front of the double doors as if blocking the entrance. But the men didn't need to be inside to light the building ablaze. Adam paused before he acted; he wasn't quite sure what to do.

"No, we're not leaving," Sibella said to Thompson and Caffey, a determined expression on her face, her arms akimbo.

"You bitches'll leave when we burn the goddamn place down!" Caffey said. He stepped closer and waved the torch threateningly. "I'll set your goddamn skirts afire!"

"You wouldn't dare!" Sibella said, and she and Bessie Sue stepped closer to the two men. Caffey stepped back; Bessie Sue's size was intimidating.

Roy Coffee had pushed through the crowd by then and stood in the clearing between the two factions.

"Now just what's going on here? Caffey, Thompson, put down those torches – now - or I'll drag you both off to jail! You hear me?"

"We're tired of havin' no women around," Thompson whined. "Ain't been no barmaids nowhere – I ain't got no wife and I need a woman to talk to me, keep me comp'ny!" Light laughter ran through the group of men. Thompson was a skinny, stinking, unsuccessful gold miner. He worked menial jobs about town and every penny he earned was spent on whiskey. Last month, Dr. Martin had taken one look at his jaundiced condition and predicted he'd be dead in a year – continued drinking or not. So Thompson was continuously soused.

"Now look," Sheriff Coffee said, presenting a friendly face as he approached, his hands out almost beseechingly. He knew the two men were drunk – were past being merely drunk, and that made a man a fool. "Just lay them torches down and I'll buy you both another drink – a whole bottle of the best rye each from the Sazerac. You can relax in a cell and drink your misery away."

"You stand back," Caffey said. "We ain't backin' off until all the barmaids go back to work! Don't give a damn about them other women. Just send them barmaids back to work." He held the torch high. "I'll throw it 'gainst the wall and burn that buildin' to ashes– women and all!"

Sibella was furious. "You just try! Go ahead and try!"

Adam stepped forward and Ben grabbed his arm. "Adam, let Roy handle this!"

"No, Pa, I've had enough." Adam jerked his arm away and strode into the clearing. He grabbed the torch from Caffey and tossed it flying in an arc over the group of men to land in the dirt street. The he swung one forearm and Caffey went down flat and hard into the dirt. Thompson, seeing what happened to Caffey, dropped his torch and took off, shuffling as fast as he could. Roy Coffee was too surprised to even move or say anything.

Adam strode to Sibella and grabbed her arm. "I've had enough of this, Sibella," he said. "This isn't a game. You're coming home with me. Now."

"Not until we get the vote…" Sibella twisted her arm, trying to force Adam to release her.

"When people's lives are at stake, it's time to call it quits!" Adam grabbed Sibella and roughly tossed her over his shoulder. Sibella struggled, kicked and demanded Adam put her down. He reached over and gave her rump a solid smack. The men in the crowd applauded and roared with laughter.

"Oh! Adam! Don't you dare…" Sibella yelled, pushing herself more upright by pressing her hands against Adam's back. But he only smacked her again. He strode with Sibella through the hooting, parting crowd of men. Even Miss Opal and Bessie Sue had to smile at Sibella being hauled over Adam's shoulder like a sack of feed.

"Well, girls," Miss Opal said. "guess it's all over. Me and my girls might as well get back to work!"

A cheer went up through the crowd of men at Miss Opal's pronouncement.

Adam had thrown Sibella over his saddle and then managed to mount-up behind, sitting awkwardly on the horse's rump. Sibella thrashed and kicked as they rode out of town and it upset the horse which threw its head and couldn't concentrate on following Adam's cues. Adam smacked Sibella's rear and she yelped.

"Stay still. You're upsetting the horse."

"The horse! Upsetting the horse! What about you upsetting me!" Sibella pounded on the side of the horse and it shied and moved in a circle. Holding tightly onto the reins with one hand, Adam sharply smacked Sibella's backside again.

"Stop that!" She was so angry and frustrated that tears stung her eyes. "You humiliated me in front of everyone! I hate you!"

"You put those women's lives at risk, Sibella, not to say anything about your own."

"I did not!" the tears started down her flushed cheeks.

"No? What would keep someone from setting the place ablaze in the middle of the night? Did you think of that?"

Sibella became still and silent. "Let me up," she asked quietly. "Please."

"Will you ride calmly and not try anything reckless?" Adam waited.

"Yes." She had placed her hands against the saddle to raise her head.

Adam stopped the horse and then, one arm about Sibella's waist, helped her manage to sit in the saddle, her skirts awkwardly twisted and exposing her legs below her pantalets. Adam kicked the horse that seemed more settled now that it's load was balanced, and the husband and wife headed to the Ponderosa.

~ 0 ~

Ben came into the house to see his eldest drinking coffee.

"Where's Sibella?" Ben asked.

"Upstairs. She's putting Noah down for his nap."

Hop Sing came out of the kitchen, frowning. "No one home for lunch! Lunch cold! Mistah Adam only want coffee, Missy Cartwright say not hungry! Only baby Noah eat!"

"I'm sorry, Hop Sing. I am hungry and I am home but Hoss and Joe stayed in town. I'm sure they'll be home for dinner though." Ben took off his hat, holding it submissively while Adam sat morosely, not even following the conversation. "I'll eat whatever you've cooked – even cold."

"Humph!" Hop Sing stood, deciding if "Mistah Ben" needed more chastising. "Chicken and gravy over biscuits?"

"Sounds delicious!"

Hop Sing smiled and went back into the kitchen; he was in charge again.

Ben unbuckled his gun belt, tossing it on the settee, and stood looking at Adam who held his coffee mug in both hands staring morosely into the dark liquid.

"What happened after I left, Pa?"

"Well, husbands came for their wives and the working women went back to work. Mr. Blackthorn piled all your quilts and the ones that were left behind in the back of his delivery wagon and then took Mrs. George to lunch. She said to tell you she'd be back in time to make dinner. Seems things are returning to normal." Ben sat down in his familiar red, leather chair opposite Adam. "Sibella speaking to you?" Ben reached for his pipe but thought better; he could smell the warmed-up chicken and biscuits and lunch would soon be ready.

"Barely. I think I went too far. Here she was, trying to get voting rights for the women of Virginia City and I blew it all apart."

"Does she understand why you did what you did?"

Adam grimaced. "Well, I explained and she listened but…I don't know." He shrugged. "I'm afraid she'll take Noah and leave, go to her parents. It's something she would do and she's that angry."

"I see, "Ben said. "Did she say she was going?"

"No, but she was cold. Ice cold. I think if I laid her now, my prick would snap off if I didn't pull straight out."

Ben suppressed a smile. "Well, looks like she's still using the same tactics with you that she did with the whole town." Ben stood when Hop Sing stepped into the dining room holding a plate of steaming biscuits smothered with chunks of chicken in golden gravy, and stated lunch was ready. "I think you're in for a bad time, Adam. A damn bad time."


	9. Chapter 9

**IX**

The weekend passed and Sibella was coldly polite to Adam although she refused to go to church, stating she was too humiliated. Adam seemed not to mind her refusal which infuriated her. Instead of arguing or trying to cajole her to go, Adam packed up a bag with diapers and bottles prepared by Mrs. George, and took Noah to church alone. All day, Sibella paced about the empty house until Adam finally came home in the early evening after having dinner at the Ponderosa. Sibella said nothing when Adam came in holding a sleeping Noah and just sat back while Adam carried Noah upstairs and put him down for the night. She sat silently while Adam told her about the day and said that she had missed quite a bit by staying home.

"I doubt that," was all she said before rising and heading up the stairs. And Adam stayed behind. Sibella didn't see him drop his head into his hands.

The rest of the week, Adam behaved as if nothing was out of the unusual, asking Sibella questions and accepting her shrugs and curt answers, so Sibella doubled-down on her efforts to let Adam know how angry she was. The Monday after the debacle in town, she began to eat dinner before he came home and so for the rest of the week, Adam sat alone at their big table while Mrs. George served him, attempting to make light conversation with her employer. But he was basically unresponsive although not unpleasant, always complimenting the dishes and thanking her, even going so far as to carry his plates and silverware into the kitchen.

Sibella let Noah stay awake to see his father – she knew Adam wouldn't have tolerated her keeping his child from him. After Adam had sat with his son, dandling him on his knee or playing small childish games that made Sibella secretly smile, she would quickly put Noah down for the night and then go to bed herself. She would either read in bed or work at her sampler until she heard Adam's weary tread on the stairs. Then, she would place the book on the nightstand or drop the embroidery hoop and thread on the floor, turn down the lamp and lay on her side, facing away from Adam.

Sibella, with her eyes shut, would listen as Adam undressed, feeling the slant of the mattress as he sat on his side to pull off his boots. Then, once ready, he would slip into bed, move until he was comfortable, and soon he would be softly breathing, asleep. Sibella would lie awake a while longer, frustrated and angry. She wanted Adam to reach for her so she could reject him. Sibella knew Adam would never force himself on her, but she hoped he would desire her, make advances.

She had two scenarios; one was that Adam would reach for her and that she would say she didn't feel well. Adam would know she was lying but he would also know she didn't want him. That would hurt him and make him sorry for what he had done. But then, Sibella would admit, she did want him; it was all so frustrating.

The second scenario was that she would allow him to have his way with her, but as he kissed her and worked and sweat over her, she would remain impassive – that would be the worst for him – that would punish him. But Adam didn't seem to want her. Four nights had passed and he had only approached her once, the first night. She had summarily shrugged his hand off her shoulder as he tried to apologize. Then he had kissed her cheek and rolled over to sleep. And Adam hadn't touched her again.

That Friday evening, Sibella sat in the parlor working on a sampler – the pattern had all the letters of the alphabet, both upper and lower case, and then the Lord's Prayer; it was for Noah's room. She glanced at the mantel clock. It was almost 10:15 and Adam wasn't home.

"Mrs. Cartwright," Mrs. George said, coming into the room, "is there anything else you need before I turn in? More tea, perhaps?"

"No, nothing. I'm fine. Goodnight, Mrs. George. And don't worry about Noah. If he wakes, I'll see to his bottle."

"Yes, ma'am. Goodnight." Mrs. George started to leave for her room on the other end of the house but paused. Despite her calm exterior, the Missus was upset. "I'm sure he's fine, ma'am."

"Yes, I haven't heard a peep out of him since I put him down."

"No, I mean the Mister. I'm sure he's fine."

Sibella worked to keep worry from her face; she smiled. "Yes. I'm sure he is."

"I left him a plate in the oven but can't say how long it'll stay warm."

"Thank you. I'll tell him."

"Oh, then you're staying up?"

"Yes – for a bit. He may be staying in town or at the Ponderosa. I'll just wait up a little longer."

"Well, here then." Mrs. George walked over and pulled a piece of split wood off the pile and placed it on the flames. Then she pushed the wood about with the poker, the flames renewed. "Strange how the night chill creeps into a house, isn't it? And the Mister took such care with the attic and the walls. I hate to think what the house would be like if it just had wood walls like the community center had."

"Yes," Sibella said, her voice dropping, "he did put much thought into building this house."

"And much love," Mrs. George said. "We were talking once, the Mister and me, don't remember what brought it up, but he said that when he drew up the plans, he considered what you would like best. And the nursery! Heavens how he worried about that, about the windows and where the child's bed should go to prevent drafts. He asked me all sorts of questions as if I knew anything more about children than he did. But it was all to be a surprise for you – he wanted to make you happy.

"Well, I've gone on, haven't I? Goodnight. Oh, one more thing - Mr. Blackthorn is squiring me to the Saturday social. That's why he stopped by today." Mrs. George blushed. The Missus had been right about Mr. Blackthorn's interest in her.

Sibella smiled. "I'm sure you'll have a wonderful time. But don't let him get too frisky, now. You know how those men are, Mrs. George!"

"Missus!" Mrs. George said, but she grinned widely and left the room.

Sibella sighed and looked at the clock again. Adam had never been this late before – never. And it was Friday night. Friday night in Virginia City was even more raucous and rambunctious than Saturday night. Sibella's mind was in turmoil. Perhaps Adam had been shot, accidentally bumped into a drunken stumblebum who wouldn't take his apology and then just shot Adam dead. But Sheriff Coffee or Ben would have come by now to tell her. She was sure of it. But maybe they hadn't yet had time.

Sibella stood up, placed the embroidery hoop on the chair seat, and began to pace the room; she couldn't sit still any longer. Her breath came in short gasps as worry overtook her. "Oh, please, God – let him come home, just let him come home now. Please!" Sibella muttered under her breath.

There had to be a reason Adam wasn't home. He may have fallen off his horse. His horse was unpredictable, shied at unusual shapes and movements, and it was a tall gelding. Or the horse could have stumbled, fallen and rolled over on Adam, crushing his chest. He could be lying in the road, praying someone would find him, slowly dying and calling her name. Or cursing her name for not making him feel welcome in his own home.

Or he was with a woman. Maybe his favorite whore at Miss Opal's was still working there and right now, at that very moment that she was worrying and pacing, perched on the edge of full-blown panic, Adam was lying with that whore and laughing at her, Sibella, and her ridiculous attempt to win the vote for women. They would both think it was hilarious how Adam had just tossed her unceremoniously over his shoulder, smacking her backside in front of everyone. Everyone had seen it including all Miss Opal's whores! Sibella covered her face in remembered embarrassment.

Was Adam kissing another woman now? Was he planning on staying there in that woman's arms all night, making love to her again and again until he was exhausted? And here she was, his wife, who would be mad with worry before the morning came and she was able to ride to the Ponderosa! Sibella grabbed her throat, panic rising in her. Why wasn't he home? Why? How could he let her worry this way?

But she had been behaving as if she didn't care what happened to him. Was he staying away just so she would be happy to see him when he did come home? Or did he believe she no longer loved him? No. He was either dead, hurt badly, or with a woman. And Sibella wasn't sure if death wasn't preferable to another woman.

A sound came from outside. Sibella froze and listened, the clock ticking in the silent room the only other sound. It was a horse. Yes. Definitely a horse. Sibella ran to the window and peeked out. Her knees went weak with relief; it was Adam leading his horse into the barn.

"Thank you, God, thank you," Sibella whispered, closing her eyes. Adam was home. But the question was, where had he been?

She quickly looked about. The tea tray was still sitting on the low table. She touched the tea pot and it was still warm. And the fire had been recently stoked. It would do no good to pretend she had been asleep instead of awake and waiting, so she sat back down and took up her embroidery…and waited.

Finally, the door opened and Adam walked in. He seemed tired and Sibella didn't know if that was a good sign or not. He had dark circles under his eyes and he seemed pale despite his suntanned, swarthy complexion. Even his broad shoulders seemed to droop.

"What are you doing up so late?" Adam asked as he took off his hat and hung it on the hall tree. "It must be past 10:00." He unbuckled his gun belt and hung it up as well. He slipped out the gun and walked over to the locked gunrack, placing the gun on the top where it couldn't be seen behind the carved edging.

"I was working on my sampler and forgot the time." She stood up. "Well, I suppose I'll turn in. Oh, Mrs. George left you a plate in the oven."

"I'm not very hungry."

"Suit yourself. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Adam said, Sibella walked to the stairs and stopped, her hand resting on the newel post. Adam had unlocked the liquor chest and taken out a bottle of whiskey, She watched while he poured himself a drink and with the glass in one hand, the bottle in the other, he sat down in what had become "his" chair by the fire.

"Isn't it a little late to be drinking?" Sibella asked.

"Maybe I'm celebrating." Adam said, pouring. He took a sip.

"Celebrating? What?"

"Celebrating the fact that you've actually spoken to me in full sentences. Don't you think that's cause for a drink?"

Sibella made a sound of disgust. "Just out of curiosity, where have you been?"

Adam laughed. "Why do you care? You've barely spoken to me this past week, you turn your back to me in bed and let me eat alone. I don't think you've earned the right to know my whereabouts."

Sibella strode across the expensive Moroccan rug and stood before Adam. "You've been drinking, haven't you?"

"I've had a few earlier, yes. And now I'm going to have more."

"Well, if you think I'm going to sleep with a drunk, you have another think coming! You can just sleep in the guest room!" Sibella waited, her heart thudding. She wanted a confrontation but was also afraid of one.

"Whatever you want, my love." Adam poured himself another drink and raised it in a toast to her.

"So, is this it?" Sibella felt her lip quiver and hoped Adam didn't notice.

"Is what it?"

"Are you through with me now? Have you been with another woman? Is that why you're late?"

Adam looked at his wife. Sibella was as beautiful and desirable as ever but he wouldn't beg for a woman's love, not even his own wife's. And he felt mean and ornery and was itching for a fight. The day had been a bad one. The herd in the east forty had stampeded and Corey Pratt's new cowpony had panicked, gone wild and ended up being knocked over and trampled by the sharp hooves, Corey as well. Adam had taken him into Dr. Martin's and the young boy was babbling deliriously, calling for his mother the whole time.

Then Hoss had stoved his right forefinger and Adam had to pop it straight. Then Hoss had to go home to soak it. He would be unable to do any more branding. That left them a man short and added to Adam's frustration as his father was already complaining that the cattle wouldn't be ready to ship to market when it was time. So, Adam and his father had spent the past few hours researching cattle prices and re-examining the contracts and the fulfillment dates. And then there were the orders for the mill. And now that they could no longer use Ponderosa script, the ranch hands and the mill workers all had to be paid in United States reserve bills. So, Adam had downed quite a few whiskeys while he added and subtracted until the books balanced and he could finally go home.

"Is that where you think I've been? With a woman?"

"It wouldn't surprise me. You had a woman before, that woman in Carson City. If I didn't know better, I'd think you'd gone to her."

Adam grinned. He was bone-weary and Sibella had been pushing him all week. "What makes you think you know better?"

"What…you wouldn't go all the way to Carson City just to…" Sibella felt lightheaded and the room started to tilt under her feet. What was Adam saying?

"But you're right. I wouldn't go to Carson City just for a piece of ass – I'd stay closer to home; Virginia City has adequate whores." Adam swirled the golden liquid in his glass.

"Have you been…" All Sibella could think of was Adam lying in the arms of one of the whores who had been in the community center with her. Which one? Which one of those women had Adam slept with? Obviously, since he had found another woman, he didn't love her anymore – she had been right all along - and Sibella suddenly felt she couldn't breathe – she was suffocating. She saw the rug undulating like waves on the ocean and Adam's face blurred. Her head spun and she heard Adam call her name. _"He doesn't love me,"_ was all Sibella could think. As if from the end of a long tunnel, Sibella saw Adam stand up and reach for her. _"He doesn't love me."_ Black splotches appeared before her eyes and Sibella reached out to steady herself but she lost consciousness and fell limply into her husband's arms.


	10. Chapter 10

**Much thanks to all who have read and for liking Sibella and putting up with a cantankerous Adam. If a plot arises in which Sibella should appear again, I'll include her. Right now, I'm plumb out of plots.**

 **Thank you all again - there really is no story unless there are readers.**

 **X**

Opening her eyes, Sibella saw Adam's worried face hovering over her as he chafed her wrist.

"Oh Sibella…thank God."

"What happened?" She attempted to sit up but Adam gently pressed her back on the sofa.

"Lie back. You fainted. Do you want me to get Mrs. George?"

"No, no…I fainted?'

"Yes. Here." Adam slipped an arm about her and raised her, handing her his glass.

"This is whiskey." Her nose wrinkled at the smell.

"That, it is. Now, have some."

Sibella held onto Adam's hand as he tipped the glass to her lips. She took a sip and then pushed it away.

"Oh! That's awful!" Sibella coughed and sat up.

"How's your head? Still dizzy?" Adam scrutinized her face while he pushed back the escaped locks of her dark hair. He couldn't help but admire the face of the woman he loved so much - but who was so contrary.

"No – I feel better," Sibella said, looking at him, "but I think I should go to bed. I must be overtired." Sibella cautiously sat up again, checking to see if her head was still spinning.

"Can I get you water…anything? A cold cloth for your head?"

"No, no, I think I'm fine." She slowly stood up and Adam hovered near, one hand on her elbow. "Let me help you up the stairs."

"No…I'm fine, really. Why don't you have your dinner? I'll be fine, really." Sibella tentatively walked to the stairs, Adam behind her at the ready in case she fainted again. Sibella turned.

"I really do feel better now. Honest. You don't need to worry I'll have the vapors and tumble down the stairs." She smiled awkwardly and then took a few stairs, Adam watching her. He called her name and holding onto the balustrade, she turned.

"I am sorry, Sibella, for the things I said. Really. There's no excuse for my behavior. I am sorry - for everything."

Sibella gave a slight nod and watched as Adam went toward the kitchen. He was home now. Adam was home and already the house seemed warmer, fire in the firebox or not.

~ 0 ~

Sibella tried to open her eyes but they were heavy with fatigue, almost as if she had been drugged. She could hear a child crying. _Noah. I have to see to Noah._ It took great effort, but she forced her eyes open and sat up in bed. It was dark and she was alone, no one next to her, the pillow not even dented by her husband's head. Then she remembered she had told him to sleep in the guest room. Noah was no longer crying, but Sibella slipped out of bed and tread lightly down the hall to her child's room. She stopped in the doorway.

Adam, barefoot, his hair tousled and wearing a bathrobe, held Noah, talking to his son.

"Now, I bet you're hungry as well as wet, aren't you? There're probably a few bottles in the kitchen. First, we'll change that wet diaper and then we'll eat. How's that? Suit you, son?" Adam, shifting his son to one hip, reached for a clean diaper from the nearby stack and saw Sibella.

"I have it, sweetheart. You can go back to bed."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. Besides, I haven't spent any time with Noah today so I'll enjoy it."

"If you came home at a decent time…" Sibella let her voice die away. Adam had stopped and was waiting for her complete reprimand but she decided to stop. "I'll go back to bed then." She watched Adam for a few more seconds, watched him lay his son down and proceed to change his diaper while talking to the baby who smiled broadly in the low lamplight. Neither of them needed her and it was like a knife through her heart. But it was of her own making.

Once back in bed, Sibella tried to sleep. But when she closed her eyes, she again saw Adam and how he looked tending Noah. And what made her toss trying to find a comfortable position, was that Adam was no lovesick boy whom she could control by pouting and withholding affection. He actually didn't seem to care.

Sibella sat up and adjusted her pillow, pounding it down. How she had wanted to touch Adam, to caress his cheek – stubble included – but then Adam would think she was over her pique of anger. Sibella tried to stir that anger up as she might the flames of a fire. Adam had humiliated her. She wouldn't be able to show her face in town for months. And he hadn't said he was sorry for the incident. If Adam didn't apologize, it meant he wasn't sorry – Adam never apologized just to keep peace; he was exasperating that way.

Eventually, Sibella fell asleep but it was fitful and she woke upset. A dream had bothered her but it had dissolved as soon as she opened her eyes. Nevertheless, it left her disturbed like a miasma from which she couldn't quite find her way. Adam. It had to do with Adam and…. Sibella had a vague sense of uneasiness. Of course, dreams are just dreams; they aren't prescient no matter what superstitious people said. They're just dreams, Sibella told herself. Yet she slipped out of bed and put her robe about her shoulders.

She padded down the hall and peeked into Noah's room, opening the door almost all the way. Quietly, she went to the crib and looked down at her sleeping son, his small mouth like a rosebud. She wanted to kiss him but she couldn't without lowering the brass rail so she kissed her fingers and touched his forehead. Noah moved his head and made slight sucking motions, making Sibella smile and then she felt a longing for him. She wished she hadn't weaned him so early, that she had listened to Adam but then what did he know? He wasn't the one who had to deal with leaking breasts and damp clothes. What would he know about feeling like a milk cow with ponderous breasts. And yet, to hold her son again at night and have him suck while she sang to him would be wonderful.

Sibella sighed. Was life always going to be a series of difficult decisions? And were she and Adam always going to be on opposite sides? She watched Noah sleep a few moments more but her bare feet were cold so she returned to her room but stopped at her door. She looked at the closed door of the guest room. Adam was asleep there and it had been so long since she had felt him against her, felt his hungry mouth on hers. No, she wouldn't go to him. He could come to her.

But Sibella stopped. He might never come to her and what then? Things would become worse and worse the longer they remained estranged. _You're working yourself into a state. Don't be an idiot. If you want him…_ Sibella looked down the hall again and then headed for the closed door. _Should I knock?_ She tried the door and it opened and there in the bed was Adam sleeping on his back, snoring gently, his arms spread out taking up the whole bed. As she watched him, Sibella felt a longing, an ache deep within herself. She wanted to crawl into bed with him but…he would gloat over her capitulating, she was sure. He would be impossible then. But there had to be a way…

"Adam." Sibella placed a hand on his arm and shook it.

His eyes flew open and he raised up on one elbow. "What's wrong? Is it Noah? Is something wrong with him?"

"No, Noah's fine. You're snoring."

Adam dropped back down. "Oh, hell, Sibella. You woke me up for that? Just close the goddamn doors - I'm a whole room away from you."

"Well, every time I try to get back to sleep, all I hear is your snoring."

"All right," Adam looked up at her. "I'll sleep on my side." He adjusted his pillow and rolled onto his side, slipping one arm under his pillow. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." Sibella was disappointed and unsatisfied. Adam hadn't reached for her and she had stood right beside the bed. Instead he had turned his back to her. She left the room, closing the door and then paused, waiting, deciding what she really wanted to do.

Silently, she slipped back into the room and standing by the bed, dropped her robe off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Even in her nightgown, the chilly air of early morning cut through her gown and she longed for the heat of Adam's skin. She slipped into the bed and them slid across the sheet and snuggled against Adam's back. He jerked awake, surprised by the presence in his bed, and quickly turned to see Sibella.

"Glad to see you're not some burglar who couldn't resist my charms," Adam said.

"Can't you be serious?" Sibella asked.

"Yes, yes, I can." Adam slipped an arm about Sibella and drew her in. She lay her head on his chest, listening to his heart thud. "I take it you're not angry with me anymore."

"I'm still angry," she said, pulling the hair on his chest.

"Ow," he said, grabbing her hand. "Why are you here then?"

"Once you told me that love and sex are two different things for a man. That he can sleep with a woman he doesn't even care about."

"True, I did say that. But I also added that sex was so much better with a woman I loved. Do you remember that?"

"Vaguely…"

Adam chuckled. "I think you remember it more than just vaguely. So, are you saying that you want sex without love?"

"Why not? I think it might be enjoyable, you know, just focusing on the physical sensations….like this." Sibella pulled her hand out of Adam's and slipped it under the sheet, grabbing him. "You seem to be ready."

"It doesn't take much for me to be ready for you. Just having you near me…" Adan pulled Sibella in and kissed her; she threw her arms about his neck, her excitement rising. She pushed herself next to him and then, to her surprise, he stopped. "We need to talk about last week, about my taking you home over my horse's back."

Sibella sat up. "Yes, we do. You've never apologized to me. Never! You treated me like a naughty child, tossing me over your shoulder and spanking me - everyone laughed and what I was trying to make a serious issue, you turned into a circus!" Sibella's chest was heaving with anger.

Adam watched his wife fume. "Listen to me and let me finish what I want to say – please. I know women's suffrage is an important issue and if you had bothered to tell me of your plans…"

"You would have stopped me. I can hear you now – 'Sibella, you're not going to try anything of the sort! You're staying home if I have to hogtie you! I'm the man and I say what goes!' That's what you would have said!"

"A poor imitation. And that's not what I would have said, well, not exactly. But I would have tried to convince you that your idea wasn't the best way of going about it."

"Oh, really. If I hadn't a husband, it would have been the best way to go." Silence fell between them and Sibella wished she hadn't made the last remark.

"Sibella, stop being so eager to interrupt me and listen to me – just listen." Adam sat up, facing her. "You thought you could hold these men hostage, have their wives, all the women deny sex to their husbands, or their…" Adam put up his hand as a manner of apology, "…patrons. That's the wrong way to win your point, especially if you want to be taken seriously. You can't use sexuality if you want women to be on equal footing with men, if you want women to have the same voting rights as men. And extortion is extortion."

Adam waited, watching Sibella, waiting for her response but she was quiet, obviously considering what he had said.

"I see your point," Sibella said, "and perhaps, my idea was wrong. I thought that if the men of Virginia City, the town council and such, could see how important the women were, they would decide that we could be instrumental in deciding important issues. But if you hadn't done what you did, I think they would have come around."

"I disagree, but then we'll never know. And, Sibella, I'm not sorry I put an end to your protest - I saw nothing but danger ahead. But I am sorry for the way I did it. Getting you out of that situation as quickly as possible after Caffey and Thompson threatened to torch the place and with you egging him on with your dares, well, your safety was all I wanted and I just took the shortest route to my goal. That I embarrassed you, I am sorry. I hope you can forgive me."

Sibella looked at Adam. He did seem sincere and was sorry, but he hadn't said he was wrong. She wanted him to say he was wrong and to plead with her to forgive him, to grovel at her feet and plead for her forgiveness. Didn't she?

What if Adam did do those things, begged for her love, for her forgiveness, and was finally humbled? Sibella considered what she thought she wanted – but then he wouldn't be Adam. The Adam she loved was hard-headed and impatient and sarcastic and set in his ways. But he was also kind and gentle and noble and loving and generous. The man she loved was a conundrum with no solution.

"Last Sunday – while you pouted and stayed home, I spoke with Reverend Mason. I asked him for Bible verses that promote giving women civil responsibilities – I was thinking I could use them as rationale at the next town council meeting."

"You're going to bring it up again?"

"Yes. I agree with suffrage for women, Sibella, just not with your…technique. Reverend Mason said he'd do me one better; he'd make this Sunday's sermon on promoting equality for women and a woman's ability to shape the future. I hope you'll come with Noah and me."

Sibella was quiet while Adam waited. Then she scooted off the bed. Adam sighed; she wasn't going to forgive him. But as he watched, Sibella pulled her gown over her head and tossed it aside, then climbed back on the bed. Adam grinned. She sat on her knees and faced him.

"You haven't said whether or not you love me," Sibella said.

"Do I have to say that in order to have sex?" Adam asked. "What happened to sex without love?"

"Oh, why do I even bother with you! You are the most…"

Adam roughly pulled Sibella to him and kissed her. "I am the most what? The man most in love with you? Because I am. I love you, Sibella, and I'll say it forever, even with my dying breath. I love you, wife."

"Oh, Adam," Sibella said, finding herself safe and warm in Adam's embrace. "I love you too. Despite how cold I was to you…I do love you."

Adam smiled and rolled her on her back. "Now, let me show you what sex is like with love…" He cupped one of her breasts and fed the rosy tip into his mouth. Sibella stretched at the sensations and slipped out a leg to wrap about him. She felt his other hand slip under her and grip one buttock. It was going to be a wild time and Sibella shuddered in expectation. And after Adam was totally spent, after they were both covered with a sheen of sweat from mutual exertion, when they were both wet and sticky and she was lying in Adam's arms, then she'd tell him of her new strategy for winning the vote.

But for now, Sibella decided she would just enjoy herself and this man she loved so much. _He may be hard-headed, willful, incorrigible, but he loves me._

And she gasped as he entered her and all thoughts of anything but Adam's insistent body left her - completely.

~ Finis ~


End file.
